Hermione Malfoy
by superscar
Summary: At the request of Dumbledore, Hermione Granger marries Draco Malfoy. COMPLETED
1. Default Chapter

Title:  Hermione Malfoy

Author:  scarlet

A/N:  Anything that is not consistent with the books, you'll have to excuse because I have not read them.  Basically everything I know is from fanfic and the movies.  (Mostly fanfic since a lot of time has passed from the end of the movies to the beginning of this story.)  I hope you enjoy it anyway.

If Dumbledore had commanded she attach extra arms and play the role of a squid, Hermione could not have been more shocked.

"I…WHAT?" she asked, trying to clear her head of what she knew must be the figment of a very confused imagination.

"You heard me correctly, Hermione," the old man's voice was soft as he watched her.

She shook her head forcefully.  "No, no I couldn't possibly—  You would never ask me…"

"Hermione," he sighed, "This isn't something I've wanted to ask you.  If there was another way…"

"Sir," she cleared her throat, "I understand the idea of sacrificing myself for the good of the whole, but…wouldn't some sort of painful death be more useful?"

Dumbledore's lips quirked at her question.  "He's not as bad as you think, Hermione."  

"Then YOU marry him!" Hermione snapped unintentionally before covering her mouth in horror.

Chuckling, Dumbledore stood up.  "Think about it, Hermione.  I'll give you few days.  The war is over, but the separation is vast.  In order for peace to last, there needs to be unity.  Where better to start than here at Hogwarts?"

"Sir, I appreciate the situation and there is nothing I'd like better than to see everyone at peace, but couldn't you just ask everyone to be friends?" she swallowed, "Or ask someone else?  Pansy and Neville?" she suggested hopefully.

"I admire your efforts to help out with other suggestions," the old man looked amused.

"Sir, Malfoy and I aren't even old enough-"

"Draco is of age, Hermione and if I recall correctly, your birthday is in a few short weeks."

"But sir…I HATE him.  He feels even more strongly about me, I assure you.  Surely this would only backfire!"

"I would consider it a personal favor to me, Ms. Granger, if you could prevent it from backfiring."

"Sir, this is my whole LIFE.  Even if you wanted me to marry Ron or Harry, I still couldn't make a decision that decision!"

"Hermione, it wouldn't be have to be forever."

"Sir, marriage is forever."

"A peaceful annulment after graduation would be most acceptable considering the circumstances, Hermione."

"So I wouldn't have to-"  Hermione trailed off with a blush.

"Your life would not have to change in the least, except that you would work closely with Draco in an effort to bring wizard and muggle born magic families together.  The death eaters have been destroyed, Hermione, it is our job to make sure the next generation does not recreate them."

Hermione sighed, but then smiled slightly, "Sir, I would be pleased to help you out with this," she crossed her arms, "If Malfoy is in agreement, of course," Hermione almost smirked.

"Excellent, Ms. Granger.  Mr. Malfoy said much the same thing.  Let's discuss dates."

Hermione felt a bit dazed and sick as she walked from Dumbledore's office.  No one was on the school grounds yet, but soon it would be swarming with Hogwarts students, new and old.

"Fancy seeing you here, Granger," a dry voice came from behind her.  "Whatever could you be talking to Dumbledore about?"

"Nothing pleasant," she snapped, her blood boiling immediately as Draco stepped from the shadows.

His eyes danced at her fury, "Now, now, Granger, is that any way to talk to your fiancée?" 

"We're not engaged!"

"Oh, you turned Dumbledore down, then?" he lifted an eyebrow.

"I-" Hermione tried to think of a way to say what happened in a way that made her right, but found herself merely glaring at him.

"Hermione Granger agreed to marry Draco Malfoy," he smirked.  "Always knew you wanted me."

"WHAT?!" she sputtered.

"Oh, please, like it wasn't obvious," Draco rolled his eyes, somehow finding a large amount of pleasure in their situation.

Hermione crossed her arms resentfully, "You've given this a lot of thought, Malfoy.  Good to know I'm on your mind so much."

"I had time on my hands, waiting for the verdict," he shrugged.

"You find a way to get out of it?" she asked hopefully.

"Not looking forward to our pending nuptials, my sweet?" he smirked.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "You know I don't want to marry you.  I know you don't want to marry me, so why don't you just shut up and help me think of a way out of it?"

Draco shrugged, "Easy.  Go in there and tell Dumbledore you don't want to."

Clenching her teeth, Hermione shook her head.

"Ahh…don't want to disappoint the grand old wizard?  Thought not."

"Well, why don't YOU do something about it?" Hermione clenched her teeth.

"Be serious," Draco sighed, "After the war, my family is in ruins.  It's up to **me** to pull my family out of this, I can't just turn down the best idea Dumbledore's had."

"Wait," Hermione frowned, "You think that marrying me is a _good _idea?"

Draco chuckled, "I know, never would have thought that statement would come out of my mouth…my how times have changed, yes?"

"Draco—" Hermione had a headache.

"Yes, it's a good idea.  Fabulous, actually.  Everyone that used to matter is dead.  My father is in prison.  Voldemort was destroyed.  There's a whole new breed of aristocracy and nothing that mattered before is important."

Hermione shook her head, "You're saying you want to marry me to declare yourself politically correct?"

"Basically," he shrugged, "You have a better idea?"

"Why don't you just save the bloody rainforest and leave me out of it, Malfoy?"  she glared at him.

Draco rolled his eyes.  "You help me, I help you."

"I don't need any help, Malfoy, I'm doing fine."

"Sure you are, Granger.  So how's your dating life?"

Hermione clenched her teeth, "None of your business."

"AKA non-existant.  Why's is that?"

"Kindly sod off, Malfoy."

Draco shook his head, "Such language, my darling mudblood."

"Look, you know I'm not going back on what I said to Dumbledore, so just leave me alone!"

"I'm a good ally to have, Hermione," Draco told her seriously, "Even when we split, no one will mess with my ex-wife.  Ever.  Think about how powerful we could be as a team, Granger.  We'll be Head Boy and Head Girl next year and…definitely the only married couple.  They'll tell more stories about us than Potter next year," he smirked.

In spite of herself, Hermione was intrigued by the picture he painted.

"And don't think men you meet won't wonder what you have that made me fall for you."

"But they'll know it was just—"

Draco shook his head, "No, we can't tell anyone.  It won't work unless it's just between us.  They have to think it's love."

Hermione made a face and Draco laughed.

"We're not gonna shag in public or anything, Granger."

She glared at him, "_Really?  _And here I thought that was the whole point."

"Kin-ky, Granger," Malfoy smirked, "I'm looking forward to this more than I thought."

Hermione made a face, "Are you an insufferable bastard constantly, Malfoy?"

"No…" his lips turned into a mischievous smile, "I sleep sometimes."

Her lips quirked before she sent him the requisite glare.  "I have to tell Harry and Ron, you know."

Draco shook his head, "No way, that would defeat the whole purpose.  You think Weasel could keep his mouth shut on that subject anyway?"

The fact that he was no doubt right about this only irritated her further.  "So what do I say?  That I _love _you?" she snorted.

"Oh God," Draco closed his eyes, imagining their reaction to such a statement, "Can I be there for that?"

Hermione glared at him, "NO, you can't be there and I'm NOT telling them that!"

Draco smirked, "There's another possibility, then."

She didn't even want to know what he was thinking in that twisted little mind, but gestured wearily for him to continue.

"You could tell them you're doing it for the sex."

Hermione snorted, "Because you seem like the type that wouldn't give it up before marriage?"

"Nope, you do," he winked.  "Speaking of giving it up-"

"Continue that dream when you're sleeping, Malfoy, I have to eat soon."

Malfoy rolled his eyes, "That's cute, Granger, but I was going to say it is obviously not expected."

"Obviously," Hermione nodded.

"So…I'll continue _my _extracurricular activities, of course.  You don't date anyway, so that won't be a problem…"

"Whoa," Hermione held up a hand, "What if I meet someone?"

"It would ruin everything if someone caught you cheating on me.  We have to last awhile or it won't work."

Hermione crossed her arms, "Then why do YOU get to cheat on ME?"

"You want me to give up sex for a **year?**" Draco stared at her in shock, "You have to be insane!"

"It would ruin things just as much if you were caught cheating, especially with the girls here!"

Draco cursed under his breath.

"Sounds like a long year, just you and your hand…doesn't it, Malfoy?" Hermione smirked.

"OK, no one here," he offered, "For either of us."

"Sure, so you can leave and go off whoring…"

"Hey, you can too," he smirked.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Because I'm SO likely to do that…"

"Hey," Draco shrugged, "Not my problem.  But if you don't like that idea, you could always help me out in that area…"

"Whoring sounds good," Hermione spit out immediately, frowning.

"Interesting word choice."

She didn't bother responding with more than a gesture.

"So…we're in love," Draco smirked, "Anything else you need to add before I die of boredom?"

"Oh, no," Hermione shook her head quickly, "Feel free to drop dead any time you like."

"Well, then, I'll see you at the wedding," he turned away.

"Wait, one more thing," she said softly.

He turned back and raised his eyebrows.

"I'm the one to break it off," she said clearly, "I'm not going to be known as the poor girl Draco Malfoy dumped."

Draco met her eye and nodded, "You won't be."

TBC


	2. Chapter Two

A/N:  Aww…thanks, guys, I'm glad you like it!  Incidentally:  The reason I have no desire to read the books is I like to get my own way, couple wise, but never do.  So I'm not gonna bother.

Without further babble…

Hermione Malfoy, Chapter Two

The only movement she seemed capable of was pacing.  Back and forth in their common sitting room as Draco watched her in amusement.

"Good lord," he spoke up finally, "Just sit down.  You need a drink or something?"

"No!" she snapped quickly, continuing her pacing as he rolled his eyes.  "Aren't you at all nervous?"

Draco shrugged, leaning back into the couch.  "What's to be nervous about?"

Hermione snorted, "You're not at all nervous about telling people we're married."

"Oh, that," he grinned at her furious expression, "I'm kind of looking forward to it."

"WHAT?" her eyes bugged.

"Come on, Granger…" he coughed and corrected himself, "Malfoy, that is," he winked, "You're not at all looking forward to tell Pansy I married you?  Because personally, I'd like pictures of the event."

Hermione quirked a smile briefly before glaring at him once again, "That's not who I'm talking about!"

"A yes, the boy who lived in ignorance of your feelings," Draco smirked, "You know he's going to be wildly jealous, what's the problem?"

"He won't be jealous," she snapped, "Just shocked.  He won't believe anything I say."

"Just stare at my ass a lot," Draco grinned.  He'd never thought marriage would be this fun.

"_Right_," the newest Mrs. Malfoy glared at him, "That would just be _so _me."

"Shh, Hermione, people might doubt our love, you know," he tisked.

"Oh, they _might?" _

"If you glare at me 24/7, they're sure to, yes."

"Or they'd assume you weren't meeting up to my expectations in the sack," she smirked, crossing her arms confidently.  

Draco rolled his eyes, "Believe me, that'd be the _last _thing on their minds."

"How could I forget?" she quirked an eyebrow, "The famed prowess of Draco Malfoy.  I tremble at the thought," she yawned.

"Your basic side effect of sexual tension," Draco shrugged, "I understand."

"You found out my secret," Hermione deadpanned.  "Whatever shall I do?"

"Oh I don't know…" Draco smirked, "Grab a vibrator and buzz off?" 

Hermione's eyes widened and she smacked him.

"Ah, my tender, loving wife," Draco rolled his eyes, laying back on the couch.  "Seriously, though…I'm never going to fantasize in peace with you in the room."

Making a face, Hermione backed out of the room.

"Oh hey, wait," Draco looked up, "You want to give me a backrub?"

She levitated a pillow into his head.

"So that's a no?"

She hadn't told anyone about the wedding.  Indeed, she wasn't quite sure what to say.  The truth would be…absolutely not the right course of action.  But then…a lie might get Draco killed.

Hermione smirked to herself.

All she needed was plausible reason why she, Hermione Gr- Malfoy, would want to marry Draco Malfoy.  Why would a girl like her throw caution to the wind and marry the bad boy?

Only one thing really came to mind and she _really _didn't want to do it.

"Harry, nice to see you," Hermione practiced, "Funny thing…when you left, I seemed to have married Draco Malfoy."

"WHAT?  Hermione, why would you do something like that?" she lowered her voice to be Harry.

"Oh, Harry, you just don't know him like I do.  He's really…" Hermione drew a blank and started over.  "Come on, Harry, you know how these things are…"

Right.  Except he didn't.

"What can I say, he's amazing in the sack, Harry," Hermione groaned at her words.

Bloody hell.  There had to be another possibility.

Draco bounded from his bed like it was Christmas.

He hadn't been this excited to go to school since the first day of Hogwarts.  When Dumbledore first mentioned the possibility of him not just working with, but actually MARRYING Hermione Granger, the mudblood harpy that lived to irritate him, he'd been horrified.  Who wouldn't be?

Harry Potter came to mind and was immediately dismissed.  He didn't count, he wasn't…  Well, he didn't count.

But Harry Potter marrying Hermione wouldn't make a statement and Dumbledore knew it.  It was almost expected that those two crazy kids would hook up one day anyway.

Draco smirked…not anymore.

He almost skipped to breakfast.

The idea of Hermione telling Potter that she had wanted nothing more than to be Mrs. Draco Malfoy was making him happy like nothing else in years.  And today was the day.  He grinned in anticipation.

Hermione seemed…less than excited, but the notion didn't bother him.  She'd have her fun when they told his friends…  He shifted uncomfortably at the thought of what Crabbe and Goyle would say…or really any of the other Slytherins, but ultimately, he was in charge of _them _not the other way around.  If he said it was fashionable to marry a mudblood, they'd better be engaged by Christmas.

No, their reaction didn't bother him.  He was the trend setter, the new pillar of aristocracy in the witching world.  

Draco snuck a look at his wife as they sat to eat.  Potter and Weasley were basically pathetic without her.  Anyone could see she was the brains behind their operation, annoying as that could be when one encountered her in classes.  

The idea that he had snatched her out from under their noses and _married _her, of all things, made him want to burst into gleeful cackles.

It was petty, of course, he and Potter were on the 'same side' now and all that rot, but it had been a long time since Draco had enjoyed something so simple as another guy's jealousy.

And jealous, he would be.  Despite any indication Hermione gave to the contrary, Draco was male.

In Potter and Weasley's mind, Hermione was theirs.

They would be less than thrilled to find he had stolen her.

Draco dug into his food with relish.  God, he loved life.

Hermione watched Draco subtly that morning, wishing she could come up with a plan that didn't involve him being there when she met Harry and Ron for the first time in months.

It would be hard enough to tell them without him being there, knowing he'd be gloating the entire time.

She'd felt his anticipation the entire morning and Hermione felt herself a most remarkable person for resisting the temptation to hex his ass.  It took strength.

A strength she'd be needing when she threw in her, _Oh, hey, Harry, nice to see you!  By the way, I married Malfoy.  See ya!_

Hermione groaned and Malfoy caught it.

A smile spread across his lips and she glared at him.

"Not my fault you couldn't resist me, Granger," he smirked, "Ahem, Mrs. Malfoy."

He did that just to irritate her, Hermione knew, and ignored the bizarre shiver that traveled up her spine at the name.  She assumed it was revulsion.  

"More like I couldn't resist Dumbledore, Malfoy," Hermione rolled her eyes.

Draco made a face, "Ick, did you just get a really nasty image?"

"Ugh," Hermione smacked him, rising to stalk from the table.

"Just asking…" his voice followed her.

It was time.

The train had arrived and any second now, the newly wedded couple would be surrounded with their classmates and friends.

"You think maybe we should make out as they get off the train?" Draco raised an eyebrow at Hermione.

"Great idea, Malfoy.  Maybe right after you drop dead."

Draco shook his head, "You have disturbing tastes…but then, you always have."

"I did marry you," Hermione shrugged, silencing him with a look as students began to pour out of the cars.  Exhaling softly, she watched as Harry and Ron stepped off the train.

"Here we go," she heard next to her before her friends tackled her.

"Whoa…Hello to you too," she grinned at Harry and Ron, as they backed off, a bit sheepish.  

"How was being at school without us?" Ron asked.

"Somehow, I survived," Hermione shrugged.

"You missed us," he grinned, "You can say it."

"Well…" she rolled her eyes and they laughed.

"Hey Hermione!" Ginny Weasley interrupted their conversation, giving Hermione a hug.  Over the girl's shoulder, Hermione could see Draco, shaking hands with a few of his Slytherin chums.  Slimy bastards, she shivered.  It made her skin crawl to see Malfoy with them.

Ginny pulled back with a smile, grabbing Hermione's hands.  "How was your summer?" she cried, frowning slightly and looking down.

Hermione's heart stopped in her throat as Ginny raised Hermione's left hand, staring in awe at the diamond ring and wedding band that graced her finger.  _A Malfoy would never have less, _Draco's voice came back to her.

"More exciting than I thought!" the girl finally gasped, raising her eyes to Hermione's in pure astonishment.

"You're engaged?" Ron gasped, seeing only the diamond.

Hermione laughed nervously, "Not exactly…"

Harry frowned, stepping up behind Ginny to take Hermione's hand.  "You're married," he said dully, raising his eyes to search hers.

Swallowing hard, Hermione nodded.

He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped, looking to Ron for help.

"Well, CONGRATULATIONS!" Ginny squealed, hugging her.  "Ignore them, they're boys," she rolled her eyes.  "Tell me everything!  Who's the lucky guy? I didn't even know you were seeing someone!  Give details!"

Hermione would have laughed at Ginny's reaction if not for the knot of fear in her stomach, twisting slowly to torture her.

"I…well," Hermione coughed, "It's funny you should ask…"

"Not making the announcement without me, are you, love?" Draco's voice drifted over her and she spun to meet his laughing eyes as he lifted her left hand to his lips, kissing the rings on her finger.

Laughing nervously, Hermione turned to her friends, the shock on their faces radiating in waves as they stared at the two of them.

"You guys…uhh…remember Draco?" she asked nervously.

TBC


	3. Chapter Three

A/N:  Again.  I'm glad you like it and I really appreciate the feedback.  I really haven't read the books.  I'm sure some people hit the back button when they saw I hadn't…their loss ;)

Hermione Malfoy, Chapter Three

As his friends greeted him, Draco was always semi-aware of what Hermione was up to.

Not only was he unwilling to give up Potter's reaction for the world…but the chances of Ron tackling him from behind were too great not to stay on his toes.

Crabbe and Goyle were going on about their summer vacation as though Draco cared one way or another.

"So what'd you do?" Goyle's question came to him and he shrugged.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Draco smirked.

"Try us," Crabbe crossed his arms defiantly.

Draco opened his mouth to shock the hell out of them when a squeal of 'Congratulations!' behind him captured the attention of everyone in the area.

Licking his lips, he turned to face his bride.

Show time.

Hermione chewed on her lip as Draco's arm slid around her.  The hair on the back of her neck stood on end at his touch and she fought the urge to remove herself from the disturbing sensations.

Relax, she told herself, struggling for something to say.  Anything would suffice at this moment.

"You…uhh…huh?" Ron asked the question that seemed to coming from everyone's mouth, only even less successfully.

"We…umm…" Hermione looked at Draco helplessly.

"Meet the newest Mrs. Malfoy," Draco grinned, squeezing Hermione tight against his body.

There were no words to greet his announcement and Hermione noticed even Crabbe and Goyle staring at them in absolute shock.

Hermione laughed nervously, eyeing Harry and Ron pleadingly to say something, anything.

"Are you pregnant?" Ron burst out.

Perhaps anything but that, Hermione thought, glaring at him as Draco burst into shocked laughter and her friends turned withering glances toward him.

"No, I'm not _pregnant," _Hermione spat, trying to draw attention away from Draco and possibly prevent any undo spilling of blood.

The second it was out of Ron's mouth, Draco couldn't help his reaction.

Pregnant.  Now why hadn't _he _thought of that?  

Not that he thought it would have gone over well, but just bringing it up and watching her eyes light with the fury they had now would've been worth any injury she caused him.

_Pregnant.  _

He had to stop himself from doubling over as his bride screamed at her friend.  Priceless.

"Weasley, I'm shocked," Draco shook his head, "Surely you know Hermione better than that."

"Thought I did," Weasley muttered ruefully.

"This is a joke, right?" Harry asked weakly, looking back and forth between Hermione and Draco hopefully.

Draco rolled his eyes and held Hermione's left hand up for inspection, "Does that really look like a joke to you?"

He could see their expressions wavering in doubt as neither Draco or Hermione said it was a joke.

"I guess we should have brought the certificate with us, muffin," Draco turned back to Hermione just in time to see her eyes flash at his ridiculous endearment.  

"Well, I was about to suggest it, but then you wanted to read me that beautiful poem before we left, darling," she batted her eyes at him.

Potter and Weasley's eyebrows shot up to their hairline and Draco could practically feel Crabbe and Doyle's reaction from behind him.  

Draco smiled tightly at his wife.  Good lord, she was supposed to make him seem married, not GAY!

"I don't think we should tell your friends about that kind of poetry, baby," he lowered his voice suggestively, "I'm not sure they're old enough."

Sneaking a look at the boy who just wouldn't die and his red pet weasel, Draco could see they were at least old enough to understand his implications and he smirked to himself.

"Ohhh, SICK!" Ron spat, "Sod off, Malfoy, I don't know what kind of spell you put her under, but there's no way in hell Hermione would marry you!"

"I'm not under a spell, Ron.  Dumbledore married us himself, you can ask him," Hermione crossed her arms defiantly and Draco had to fight his growing desire to laugh.  Could life be more perfect?

Someone tapped him on the shoulder.

This would be so much easier if she could just tell Harry and Ron the truth, Hermione sighed to herself.  They'd know they had nothing to worry about and everything could just go back to normal.

What had she been THINKING, agreeing to this stupid scheme?  Her friends would never speak to her again!  And what did peace, love and all that really matter if Harry and Ron hated her?  But what would make them like her…or even respect her again?

Hermione cringed as the horrifying answer came to her:

They'd have to think she was in love.

What true friend would turn away from a fool in love?

God, she wanted to vomit.

In love with _Malfoy?  _How could she even _fake _that?

Hermione turned to look at her annoying husband, but found his attention diverting from her party as he spun them face to face with Pansy Parkinson.

A slow smile spread across Hermione's face at the look of shock and anger decorating the other girl's face.

Clearly, she'd heard the news.

"You…you married her?!?" Pansy's cheeks were red with fury and it wasn't the prettiest thing Hermione had ever seen.  Yet somehow, it filled her with a giddy sort of delight.  Pansy was jealous of her.  She'd been waiting for this day for years.

"Last week," Hermione gave her a sweet smile, wrapping her arms around Malfoy as the girl gaped at her in rage.  "It was _so _romantic," she gushed, the automatic gag-reflex overcome by the shocked reactions of Pansy and every other Slytherin as the audience around them grew larger.  "Wasn't it, honey?" she turned to her newly wedded husband.

Apparently he wasn't the only one working the audience, for Draco knew for a fact the joy radiating from his 'dear wife's' eyes had nothing to do with their nuptials.  

"It was wonderful, cupcake," Draco muttered wryly, "But I rather preferred the three straight days after-"

Draco coughed as Hermione's elbow met his stomach.

"DRA-CO!" Pansy's high pitched shriek rudely grabbed his attention.

"You wanted to congratulate me?" he smiled at her, "How thoughtful."

Ignoring his hints, Pansy drew herself to her full height to screetch at him.  "Draco!  How COULD you?  She's just a mudblood whore!  How could you turn away from every-"

Her voice trailed off as he stepped forward, very close to her.  "Pansy, I would like you to apologize to my wife," he told her, his voice silky as he stared into her eyes.

It wasn't a request.  It was an order.

Pansy swallowed hard, trying to look to Crabbe or Goyle for help, but Draco stopped her with a look.  "I…uhh…Sorry about that," she muttered, rushing away quickly.

Draco turned to the rest of the Slytherins, staring at him open-mouthed.  He sent a look to Crabbe and Goyle, who stepped forward immediately.

"Congratulations, Malfoy," they spit out immediately, still eyeing Hermione incredulously.

"Thank you, gentlemen," Draco smiled, "But if you'll excuse us," he gestured to his slack-jawed bride, "We'll be heading back to our apartment.  Any other _congratulations," _he emphasized clearly, sending a look to the remaining Slytherins, "Can wait until lunch."

Everyone filed away from them in a kind of shell-shocked bemusement, leaving Draco and Hermione alone on the train platform.

"I-  You-" Hermione frowned at him, waving her arms about in order to convey her point.

"Uhh…right," Draco raised an eyebrow, "I totally agree."

Hermione stomped her foot, "You DEFENDED me, Malfoy!"

"Right.  And that's bad because…"

"Because it is!" she flapped, flustered.  "You've been calling me a mudblood all my life, what does it matter to you if Pansy does?"

"You're a Malfoy now," he shrugged, "If she insults you, she insults me."  He couldn't believe she had a problem with him _defending _her.  No wonder chivalry was dead.  There was no appreciation these days.

Hermione continued to stare at him as though he'd declared Harry Potter his best friend.

He shrugged off her insanity and walked toward their ride, "Come on, mudblood, I'm hungry."

"Typical," she muttered behind him.

TBC  


	4. Chapter Four

Disclaimer:  If it's worth suing, it's worth reviewing.  Thank you.

Hermione Malfoy

A/N:  Well…I guess ya'll like it…;) Good, I commend your taste.  Hello to those kids in Sydney that talk about this story in their English Class:  I have ears everywhere… ;)

Chapter Four

It had certainly not been Hermione's idea to hold hands as they walked down the hall.  It had merely been her idea _not _to make out in the hall.  Somehow, this was the result.

"Be careful of what you drink in the future, Malfoy," she muttered darkly into his ear, pulling back with a sweet smile and giggle that gave her breakfast a second tour of her mouth.

"Such anger isn't healthy, my love," Draco tsked, raising her hand to his mouth for a kiss.

"Why are you being so _nice?"_ Hermione hissed.

Draco smirked back at her, "You're my wife."

Hermione clenched her teeth, "But you _hate _me," she whispered, pulling him into a corner.

"And where did you get this idea?" he raised his eyebrows.

"You've always been pretty obvious about your feelings for mudbloods…me, in particular."

Draco shrugged, "Mudblood, schmudblood…who cares?"

Hermione blinked at her husband.  All of his years of hate were suddenly at an end just because he…got married?  No.  He was up to something.

"You'll appreciate this, Granger," he smirked, forgetting to call her _Mrs. Malfoy _in that annoying way of his as his eyes alighted with some disturbing thought she feared he was about to share with her, "I've been putting this theory together for a few years now."

"What?  That muggles may have been onto something with the whole toothpaste idea?" she asked.

Draco rolled his eyes, "Even better.  You see, my dearest Mrs. Malfoy, superiority is a funny thing.  I've discovered, in my observations, that I'm not superior to everyone because of my blood."

"Fabulous, Malfoy," Hermione rolled her eyes, "You're a bloody genius.  However did you figure that one out?"

"Rather!" he ignored her, continuing on, "I'm superior to everyone because they've made me their god."

Hermione was hard pressed to recall a more violent need to upchuck.

"I was thinking about it one day.  Crabbe is a pureblood.  Doyle is a pureblood.  Pansy is a pureblood.  Good lord, WEASLEY is a pureblood.  And yet you, the smartest girl at Hogwarts are mudblood."

Crossing her arms, Hermione started to tap her foot, "Are you arriving at some kind of point soon?"

Draco couldn't help feeling a bit perturbed at Hermione's lack of appreciation for his genius.

"Granger," he whined in annoyance, forgetting to use her new name yet again, "It isn't who I AM that makes me superior to everyone, it's what I DO.  I simply command and they obey.  Like that," he snapped.

She actually looked a little ill at his announcement.  Obviously, the implications were lost on her, for the brilliance of it was nothing short of fabulous to _him. _

"You could do the same thing, you know," he smiled, hoping that would help get his point across to her.  People always liked it better when they had something to gain.

"I could what, be the goddess?" she raised an eyebrow.

"The spot's open," he smirked.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Come on, let's get to class," she took his hand and pulled him along.

She was weakening, he could tell.

Letting go of Draco's hand the second they hit the classroom, Hermione slipped into her usual place next to Harry, who looked up at her in surprise.

"Morning," she mumbled, ignoring Draco's attempts to catch her eye as he slid into his own seat next to Crabbe.

"Not sitting by your husband?" Harry asked with obvious bitterness.

"We've always sat here," she frowned, as though the possibility that she might be allowed to sit anywhere she wished had never occurred to her.  It actually had, she was just hoping it hadn't occurred to Draco.  He seemed to find the fondest delight in flaunting their 'relationship.'

"That was before you decided not to mention things like—I don't know, your wedding—to us," Ron hissed from Harry's other side.

Hermione eyed her friends in annoyance, "Just grow up, will you?  It's my choice to make.  I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but honestly, considering your behavior _now, _can you really tell me you wouldn't reacted WELL to the idea?"

The boys at least had the grace to look a little embarrassed.

"I thought not," Hermione sniffed.

"If we're all done with chit-chat," Snape glared at them, "We'll start your first class of the new year."

He couldn't have sounded less excited about the prospect and Hermione couldn't help agreeing with the sentiment.

"I'm sure you've all studied ahead…unless you had more important matters to attend to this summer?" Snape looked pointedly at Hermione at this statement, which made her a little indignant.

They had, after all, had a war on not long ago, so there were other pressing matters that may have been distracting.  And even if one felt the need to draw attention to the whole _getting married _thing, he could cast his superior eye Draco's way as well!

This whole bloody class would be so much better if she was a Slytherin…  And apparently marrying into it didn't help matters.

"Would anyone like to share with us what we'll be studying this semester?"  

By some twisted turn of events, Neville Longbottom raised his hand.  

It was as though the whole class took a collective gasp.  Though for Draco, it was more like a choked fit of laughter.  Hermione ought to know, she'd recognize the sound anywhere.

"Mr. Longbottom," Snape stared down his nose at the Gryffndor.  "You would like to share what we're headed for this semester?"

Neville opened his mouth, closed it, looked wildly around at his fellow classmates…and fainted.

Snape rolled his eyes and continued on without a beat.  "Perhaps someone else?" he asked dryly, "Ms. Granger, care to share?"

Every eye moved from Neville's beached form to Hermione.

She heard Draco cough clearly and was annoyed with him for not taking the responsibility out of her hands.  Sure, he could defend her, but this, he was making her do.

"That's not…erm…I go by my married name now," she mumbled.

She received several sharp glances and a few gasps as she spoke.  Apparently, word hadn't traveled as quickly as she'd expected.

"Ahh yes," Snape nodded, "And what is your married name, for the record, then?"

The class waited in a dead hush, staring at her expectantly as Neville finally came to, pulling himself awkwardly into his chair.

Hermione swallowed, "Malfoy.  Hermione Malfoy."

She met Draco's eye and he smirked.

Neville tumbled back to the floor.

Hermione had been avoiding him ever since Potions.

The look on her face when she'd said his name…now her name as well.

Could there ever have been a time when he hadn't wanted to live?  When he didn't see any joy in his future?

And who would have known that marrying the know-it-all mudblood, Hermione Granger, would have been that thing to make him so deliriously happy?

Sure, it wasn't the same sort of delirium most newlyweds experienced, but surely it was more lasting, ultimately.

Passion faded.

But annoying the hell out of Hermione would * always * be funny.

He seemed to have a special ability when it came to driving her to the brink of insanity and beyond.

Just standing there, he could drive her mad.  Not because of anything he was doing at the moment, other than breathing in that frustrating way he had.  But rather, whatever he was up to next.

The attentive husband rot was making her sick to her stomach.  She'd never be able to eat.

"Oh God, just go over there," Ron moaned into his soup.

"What?" Hermione frowned.

"If you MUST stare at him all the time, could you just go over there and leave us out of it?"

Hermione's mouth dropped, "I wasn't-"

Ginny giggled slightly, "Yes, you were."

"Traitor," Hermione glared at the other girl, who shrugged it off carelessly.

"Shhh," Harry hissed at them, motioning to Dumbledore as he stood in front of them, motioning for quiet.

Silence reigned and Dumbledore began to speak, "It has come to my attention that there is an announcement we failed to make last night at the sorting…"

Hermione's heart began to race as she looked about quickly for a place to hide.

"Could we get our Head Boy and Girl to come up here a moment?"

Eyes closing in mortification, Hermione dragged herself in front of the student body as Draco sauntered gracefully to her side.

"This," Dumbledore began, "is Draco Malfoy of Slytherin and this," he turned to Hermione, "is Hermione…Malfoy of Gryffndor.  They were just married recently," he informed the student body, "Let's give them our congratulations," he started clapping and the student body joined him…though whether it was out of pure shock, it was tough to tell.

As the clapping died down, Hermione turned to Draco, unsure what they should do at this point.

And that was when she heard it.  

It started small, but grew louder, sweeping from the Gryffndor table to the Slytherin until every student was looking at the couple expectantly…banging their glasses with their spoons.

Hermione looked at Draco in alarm, "I thought that was just a muggle tradition."

"Nope," he smirked, "Wizards have weddings too.  C'mere, Mrs. Malfoy," he drew her against him, dipping her low over his knee.

Everything on the planet seemed to halt as he held her, his lips drawing closer and closer…

TBC


	5. Chapter Five

Hermione Malfoy, Chapter 5

A/N:  ßwritten out of habit rather than a true desire to say anything, I'm afraid.

Her mind spun wildly with some way to get out of this delicate situation when his lips hit hers and everything ground to an abrupt halt.

Fire ran through her body as she pulled him against her with a sigh.

Draco took the opportunity, moving to explore the depths of her mouth with a thoroughness she thought might kill her.

In the back of her mind, something nagged persistently, some reason this shouldn't happen, but she ignored it, the sudden, overwhelming pleasure driving her actions as her tongue twined with Malfoy's.

Malfoy!

Her eyes snapped open and she pushed against him insistently, the roaring in her ears coming into focus as he pulled back immediately, pulling upright as their classmates cheered wildly at the display.

House rivalry aside, it wasn't often two 'former enemies' made out in front of everyone.  In actuality, _no one _made out in front of everyone.  Except Pansy.  But nothing she did counted.

Blaise Zabini smirked from the Slytherin table.  "How much do we owe you?"

Draco raised his eyebrow at the question and turned to Hermione.  "Have you ever noticed anything different about Zabini?"

"Ambiguous sexuality?" Hermione smiled, "Yeah."

"We'll let it pass this time," Draco smirked back at his fellow Slytherin, "You just keep saving up for that gender clarification potion Madame Pomfrey keeps promising."

Hermione smirked.  She'd always wanted to comment…it was nice Draco was on the same wavelength…

Bloody hell!  She turned to him in shock.  They couldn't have formed any kind of…connection…could they?

It was just a kiss for show, Hermione told herself.  His skill in the area in question had nothing to do with any fleeting moment of camaraderie.  

The newest Mrs. Malfoy was a DAMN good kisser.

Draco grinned to himself.  He couldn't believe Potter had passed that up.  Stupid prat.  Honestly.

But alas, to the victor go the spoils.

He was aware Hermione probably considered tonight's little show an end to their public snogging.  Indeed, perhaps their snogging in general.

Such innocence really was rather adorable.

Pansy watched the public display of saliva with absolute distaste.

Looking away, nauseas, she encountered the gaze of one, Harry Potter, similarly green, though the girl next to him cheered with abandon.

One of the Weasley brood, obviously.  Stupid Gryffndor bitch.

The whole world had gone crazy over the summer.  Even Crabbe and Goyle were cheering for their idol as he searched for buried treasure somewhere in the mudblood's…toes, by the looks of things. 

She could just feel her lunch rising back up her throat.

How could Draco possibly be interested in that stupid little know it all?

"How can she be stupid and a know it all?" Crabbe asked, blinking blankly.

"Shut up," Pansy snapped.

"But you asked…"

"Just SHUT UP," she hissed, cursing herself for speaking her thoughts aloud.

He'd miss her, she'd make sure of that.  Draco would regret the day he turned down Pansy Parkinson.

"Not by the looks of things," Goyle frowned.

"Would you people just SHUT UP?!?"

Bloody hell, everyone interfered in her love life.

Harry Potter was having the worst day of his life.

Well, no, but he felt the need to over dramatize the situation as much as possible.

It had been more than clear that Hermione was not, much to his ultimate dismay, pretending to be married to Draco for some completely unknown reason.

If Dumbledore announced it, it was real.  And if their kiss was anything to go by, they either liked each other just a _tad _or lost something very precious down Hermione's throat.

Obviously, the experience hadn't caused the same upchuck reaction it had in him, or they would have found it in no time.

How could she _do it?  _And WHY?!?  Was she really that desperate?  If he had said something, would _they _be married right now instead of that sodding slytherin?

"You can get her back, you know," a voice interrupted his thoughts.

Harry's eyes narrowed on Pansy Parkinson, who stood in front of him, determined.

"I can what?"

"She thinks you're always there for her, you have to prove that isn't true."

"Who are you talking about?" Harry played dumb.

Pansy rolled her eyes, "You know who I'm talking about.  Look at it this way, you want Hermione, I want Draco…if we work together, we can both have what we want."

"For the sake of argument, how would you propose we do that?" Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Make them jealous," Pansy grinned.

Hermione avoided Draco for the rest of the day…which, unfortunately, meant spending a great deal of time in the Gryffndor common room.

In the presence of her dear friend, the annoyed Weasley.

"Her-mi-o-neeee," he whined, "How could you do this to us?"

Hermione tapped her foot in annoyance, determined to ignore him.

"Just answer!"

"Fine," Hermione snapped, "What gives you the audacity to think that _my _marriage has anything to do with _you?_"

"I-" Ron blushed, "Cause we're friends, Hermione."

"So be my FRIEND and stop being such a prat about my marriage and my husband," she glared at him.

"But-"

"Now," she silenced him with a glare.  "Change the subject or shut up."

"Uhh…will you still cheer for us in Quittich?"

Hermione rolled her eyes.

As she was finally heading back to what everyone was now referring to as the Honeymoon Suite, she ran into Ginny, Parvati and Lavendar in the hallway.

Despite significant temptation, she didn't turn and run, but maintained a steady course toward them as they giggled.

If fate was finally turning to her favor, she'd just be able to slip by.

"HERMIONE!" Parvati gushed, her voice bringing panic to Hermione's heart.

What could she possibly want and why did her voice carry that dreadfully frightening excited tinge to it?

"Oh Hermione!" Lavendar echoed, "You MUST tell us everything!"

"Everything?" Hermione asked faintly, daring to hope they were talking about a school assignment for the first time in their lives.

"Draco!" Lavendar squealed, "The wedding!"

"How he asked you," Parvati sighed.

"But mostly the sex," Ginny smirked and the other girls nodded in agreement.

Much to Hermione's ultimate dismay, there was no convenient place for her to crawl into a hold and die at the moment, so she had to play along.

"I-er," she cleared her throat, "What do you want to know?"

Lavendar looked a bit put out with this question, "We already told you!  EVERYTHING!  This is the most romantic thing ever to happen at Hogwarts!"

Hermione sincerely hoped not.

"You're like those muggles in the play," Parvati sighed.

"The…who?" Hermione frowned.

"Romeo and Juliet!  Star-crossed lovers!  It's exactly the same!"

Hermione raised an eyebrow, "Thanks, Parvati.  Every young bride likes to be compared to suicidal muggles."

"You are the most unromantic person, Hermione," Lavendar scolded, "How is it that you ended up married?"

"Just couldn't turn him down," Hermione shrugged.

"What was the wedding like?"

Boring and tedious.  "Quiet.  Dumbledore married us."

"Ohhhh," the girls' eyes widened, "What does he think of you getting married so young?"

"Couldn't be prouder if it was his own idea," Hermione muttered wryly.

Ginny waved her hand impatiently, "You know what we really want to know, Hermione, so give."

Hermione _did _know…and chose to avoid the subject at all costs.

"You're the woman of experience now!" Lavendar sighed, "You have to tell us what it's like.  Is it true his," Lavendar coughed, "Is longer than his wand?"

Hermione blushed madly, fearing the horror of her words reflected on her face.  When she looked up, she found Malfoy standing on the other side of the girls and leaning against the wall.  By the ever present smirk on his face, it was safe to say he'd heard the question.

"Did _he _tell you that?" Hermione rolled her eyes.  "I'm not going to talk about…that.  It's too personal," she threw a glare at Malfoy over Lavendar's shoulder as he laughed at her uncomfortable predicament.  Stupid prat.

"Well, tell us _something," _Parvati whined.

"Ohhhh…" Ginny's eyes lit up, "How many times can he make you…you know."

"Orgasm," Lavendar supplied the word helpfully.

Ginny rolled her eyes, but looked at Hermione expectantly.

"You guys!" Hermione had never felt more embarrassed in her entire life and Malfoy seemed unable to control his silent laughter and ever present smirk.  Throwing him a sweet smile, she turned back to the girls, "I've actually never had one."

TBC


	6. Chapter Six

Hermione Malfoy, Chapter Six

A/N:  Thank you for reading this story and I hope you continue to enjoy it.  The following are responses to a couple reviews that made me scratch my head for awhile:

Ashley—It IS their last year and YOU are a moron.  Read the story before you come to me with this stupidity, it makes me sad for humanity.  Truly.  Please do not procreate.

Anonymous—You complained about description and characterization.  So I will just say that I hate description, if I can sum up something in a word, I will.  I did.  I will do it again.  If you want flowery detail, read another story, it's a waste of my time.  On the subject of characterization, I explained that Draco doesn't hate mudbloods anymore, so if you could read the story, that would be excellent.  Also, sure, Hermione hates him…passionately.  And she has to kiss him…would she get into it?  Let's see…she has passionate feelings about him and he's a hot, good kisser.  Yes.  She is going to like it.  This is the nature of a D/Hr story, my friend.  They will be attracted to each other, it happens.  I know that Ron has a temper, but using one of the books as an example, knowing I haven't READ them, is ridiculous.  I don't particularly like Ron and Harry.  But at this point, I am giving them the benefit of the doubt that they are not complete morons.  Sure, they're mad, but what are they going to do?  Attack Draco?  He's their best friend's husband.  If you really think they would do that, why do you read the books?  They're retards. 

Anyway…enjoy the story:

Absolute horror radiated through Draco's body at his young wife's revelation.  How could anyone never have had an…

His eyes narrowed and met hers, a smirk covering her those naughty lips of hers as the implication hit him full on.

_HE _couldn't get _HER _off?!?

Oh, he'd get her off in the bloody hallway…  Draco glared, stalking forward.

"Haven't had one," he growled.  She'd be singing a different tune when he was done with her.  Screaming, actually.  Draco smiled.

"Draco, darling!" a voice called out behind him and he swallowed, turning from his intended target with slow deliberation, trying to deny his instinctual recognition.

The woman waved joyfully and ran into his shocked embrace.

"Oh, Draco, it's been forever!"

"Mother," Draco coughed, pulling away before she cleaned his face or something equally humiliating.  Not that her arrival wasn't enough.

**

Hermione and her friends stared at the reunion.

"Was he there the whole time?" Ginny hissed, her face flushing to clash horrendously with her hair.

Shrugging, Hermione turned away, but Ginny grabbed her arm, "So you were just messing with him for eavesdropping, then?"

Hermione threw her a wink, "Don't tell."

Chuckling, Ginny backed away, "Shattering your husband's confidence between the sheets," she grinned, "That's the Hermione I know and love."

"Hermione!" Draco snapped, interrupting their discussion.

Swallowing, Hermione took a shaky step toward them, "Yes?" she squeaked.

"This is my mother, Narcissa Malfoy," he gestured to the woman in front of him, studiously picking the lint off his robes.

Lips twitching at the woman's behavior, Hermione stepped toward them.

"Mother," Draco caught her attention, batting her hands from his robes in obvious annoyance, "This is my bride, Hermione Gra…formerly Granger."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am, Draco's told me so much-"

"The mudblood?!" Narcissa's eyes widened as she stared from Hermione to Draco in shock.  "You got MARRIED?"

"Mother!" Draco snarled as Hermione took an unconscious step back from the woman's anger.

**

Furious, Draco snaked a possessive hand around Hermione's waist, pulling her against his side.  How dare his _mother, _of all people, not respect his wife.  She would have to get along with her for the rest of their lives…as far as she knew!

"I naturally expect you to apologize to my wife, mother," he told the woman tightly.

Narcissa's lips thinned, but she turned to Hermione, offering her hand, which the girl took with understandable hesitation.  "My apologies, young lady, I meant no personal slight, I was merely shocked that a son would not inform his _mother _he had gotten _married._"  His mother sent him a glare throughout her little speech, letting him know she was not finished him.

Let the harping begin.  How could he contain his excitement?

Throughout his entire life, his parents had treated him strangely.  In general, he preferred his mother, being that she never hit him, hadn't encouraged him to destroy the world and never suggested the drinking of muggles blood.  He rather adored her for this.

However, if, for once in his entire life, she didn't stop treating him like a five year old, he could not be responsible for his reactions.  

For ultimately, though his father had encouraged extreme violence, only his mother drove him to the point of insanity where he would consider it.

On himself, for the most part.

"…just perfect," his mother was speaking and he tried to block her out as he normally did.  "…losing my husband and now my son!"

"My getting married has nothing to do with father's trip to prison," Draco snapped in annoyance.  It actually _did _have a great deal to do with that, but it shouldn't and if he could prevent it, his mother would certainly never find out.

Narcissa's eyes widened, "You don't know!"

Draco swallowed, "What don't I know?"

"There was an incident in the prison, Draco.  Lucius is dead."

**

Hermione gasped at the revelation as Draco's face hardened.  He didn't move at first, but nodded.  "It would have happened eventually.  If you'll excuse me, ladies.  Mother, I believe you need to check in with Dumbledore."

He turned on his heel and Hermione caught his arm quickly.  Their eyes met and for a second, she thought he'd throw her arm off him, but he just stared at it, as though he wasn't sure what to do with her comfort.

Draco's hand covered hers and he removed it slowly, squeezing tightly for a second before letting it drop and stalking away from them.

"I'm sorry about Draco," Hermione turned back to Narcissa, "He's just-"

"You don't have to explain my son to me, Miss Granger," the older Mrs. Malfoy spat.

Hermione shook her head, "Of course not, I'm sorry."  What had she been thinking in the first place?  She didn't understand Draco any more than anyone anyway.  Other than his theory of Draco Malfoy:  all around sexy beast, she wasn't privy to his thoughts.  And that one in particular wasn't going to rock the headlines of the Daily Prophet.

"No," Narcissa sighed, "I'm sorry.  I have had quite the shock this week, I-"

"I understand," Hermione said quickly, unsure why she wanted to put her temporary mother-in-law at ease in the first place.  She obviously didn't like her and they wouldn't have to see each other after this.  So she could just tell her where Dumbledore's office was and be done with this.  

"How did he propose?" his mother asked softly, eyes flickering to the large diamond decorating Hermione's finger.

"Why don't you come in for tea and I can tell you about it?" Hermione smiled, leading her mother-in-law up the stairs as her mind searched frantically for something to tell her.

His father was dead.

The bastard that spent his life torturing him had died in prison because of him.

Draco wasn't entirely sure what to think about that, so he avoided it, reflecting on his mother's presence instead.

She wasn't allowed to stay at the school, thank Merlin.  Just having her there was strange, especially with Hermione there.

His lips thinned as he recalled his mother's immediate rudeness and the look on Hermione's face.  She was getting the worst end of this strange bargain, but in the end, she would simply do it because it would help.  The newest Hermione Malfoy was just too bloody nice to survive in this world.

He'd have to train her better in the future.  

***

Hermione left Draco's mother resting when she went to dinner.

The usual suspects were gathered at the Gryffndor table and Ginny and Ron were laughing.

"I can't believe she said that with him standing right there!" Ron smirked, "Go Hermione.  So how'd he react to the truth?"

"What stories are you telling, Ginny?" Hermione raised an eyebrow at Ginny as she sat down.

Ron grinned at her for the first time, "You know, Hermione, I'm sure there are plenty of men that can show you a better time than Malfoy, don't worry."

Perversely, Hermione was irritated.  Malfoy was hers to insult.  "Oh, get over it, Ron, I was just messing with him for being a prat and listening in on the conversation."

The smile on Ron's face died and he shook his head, "What happened to you, Hermione?  You used to hate Malfoy."

"What do you really want me to say, Ron?" Hermione raised her eyebrow, "Do you want to know how many times I've REALLY-"

"EATING!" Harry interrupted quickly, almost desperately.

Hermione rolled her eyes and went back to her food.

"Not fair," Ginny muttered, "_I _do!"

Everyone ignored her.

"Harry!  Sweetie!" a familiar voice interrupted them and it took all Hermione's jaw muscles to keep her mouth closed as Pansy lowered herself into Harry's lap and kissed him in abandon.

***

"Bloody hell," Goyle muttered, elbowing Draco.

"What?" Draco snapped, annoyed to be disturbed from his brooding.

"Look at the new couple," Goyle told him, gesturing to the Gryffndor table.

For a split second, Draco didn't want to look, didn't want to see which one of Hermione's friends she'd decided to go back to.  He told himself they had a deal and forced his eyes to follow Goyle's finger.

Relieved laughter broke out of him at the sight.  Pansy and POTTER?  It was too perfect.

Goyle nodded, "I know."

Draco shook his head.  Nothing could surprise him anymore.  He was married at eighteen, his wife hated him and his father just died.

Somehow, in the insanity of the world around him, Pansy and Potter made perfect sense.  His eyes flickered to Hermione and some of the glee inside of him died.  She was clearly in shock, but beyond that, he could read her.

Was she jealous?  Appalled?  Disgusted?  Amused?

His lips thinned and he got up, crossing the room quickly.

***

"Well, that's not something you see every day," Hermione's husband interrupted her thoughts.

"What?" Ron snapped in annoyance, "A Slytherin making out with a Gryffndor?  It's more common than you might think.  Though it still turns the stomach every time," he grimaced.

Harry and Pansy pulled away from each other with an oddly triumphant look on their faces.

"See you later, baby," Pansy grinned, standing up.

Draco snorted and the new couple glared at him.

"Problem, Malfoy?" Harry snapped.

"I'm sure I can find a spell to purge the image, Potter, but I appreciate your concern."

Pansy crossed her arms, "_Jealous, _Draco?"

He smirked, "Well, far it be from me to disparage your taste, Parkinson, but rather think my Gryffndor is prettier than yours."

Bloody better be, Hermione tapped her foot in annoyance.

"So what's to be jealous of?" Draco was clearly enjoying himself and slid onto the bench next to Hermione.

"You'll miss the days when you had a real woman," Pansy glared at him.

"Sure, if I ever lost her," Draco smiled, raising Hermione's hand to his lips and turning his head to send a wink in her direction.

His eyes danced and Hermione couldn't stop the matching grin she sent back to him.

"Not going to join the battle of wits, my love?" he asked, his low voice raising goose bumps on her skin as he slid closer.

Hermione flickered a glance to Pansy and back to her husband, "My _love, _what a cruel suggestion.  You know she's not armed."

TBC


	7. Chapter Seven

Hermione Malfoy, Chapter Seven

A/N:  I forgot all the things I was supposed to comment on here.  I'm sure there were a number of things that I can't think of at the moment.  Umm…Thanks to Jolly Mary for a review longer than Les Miserables.  Oh, and I wrote a stand alone called 'Dracilla.'  I labeled that 'humor' and I label _this _romance.  So you might want to check that out if you haven't.  Anyway, enjoy this next chapter:

His wife was ripping on Pansy Parkinson just like he had.  Looking into his eyes… Pretending they were in love…  Lying to her best friends… Tearing others to shreds with just her words?

How deeply Slytherin of her.

Draco could not be more turned on.

Until she winked at him and his entire thought process flew out the window.

**

A thrill ran up her spine at his obvious appreciation, even pride.

Their marriage was built on what any good Slytherin would hope for:  Deception, hatred and ambition.  

But the idea of him genuinely appreciating anything about her was exciting.  Though WHY that was the case, she didn't know, but she couldn't help drawing attention to it.

Hermione Granger would have never flaunted her enjoyment of the situation.

But _she _was Hermione Malfoy.

So why couldn't she wink at her husband?

**

Pansy watched the entire exchange with a growing feeling of helplessness as the married couple flirted shamelessly at the Gryffindor table, of all places!

She had made out with Harry Potter and for WHAT!  To watch them go at it on table?!

"Oh, get a room," she snapped, coloring slightly as every eye at the Gryffindor table turned to look at her in ironic amusement.

"Don't mind if we do," Draco smirked at her, turning to whisper in the mudblood's ear.

Ugh.

Would he never appreciate her sacrifices?

Did he think a lip lock with Potter was something she _enjoyed?  _

Honestly.

She stalked back to the Slytherin table in annoyance.  There was only so much torture she could take in one sitting.

**

Talk about sacrifice for nothing.

Harry just resisted the urge to wipe his mouth.  While it was clear the girl had…plenty of experience…it just didn't make up for her…Pansyness.

As though the experience wasn't enough, Draco opened his mouth again the second Pansy was gone.

"So, Potter…jumping on the Slytherin bandwagon?"  

Hermione gave her husband a disapproving slap, but Harry didn't miss the quirk of a smile that rose to her lips.

"What, honey?  I think it's cute.  They make a great couple," Draco smirked.

Harry refused to ask why, convinced it would only set him up for another Malfoy comment.

Unfortunately, Ron wasn't one to think about such things, and the question was out of his mouth before Harry could elbow him into silence.

"Oh, you know," Malfoy's eyes twinkled in delight at Ron's question and a feeling of apprehension settled over Harry's stomach, "Her _name _is Pansy.  Potter _is _a pansy.  It's perfect, no?"

Harry reached out a hand to grab Ron's arm as he lifted predictably from his seat to attack Hermione's husband.  Again.

***

It was the perfect set up.  He'd been helpless to resist, surely Hermione could understand that.

But no, she was frowning at him.

Draco resisted the urge to pout openly.  Where was the lovely Mrs. Slytherin from moments before?

"What's wrong, baby?" the words slipped out before he had the chance to bash himself over the head with a Nimbus 2000.

Her eyes lifted to him and it was then that he saw the spark in them, the slight smirk on her lips that let him know he'd fallen into her silky web.

"I don't want to change my name to _Insufferable Git _to be perfect for you…baby," she winked at him again.

The Gryffindors howled at this comment, but Draco barely heard them, focused, instead, on that snarky set of lips in front of him.

She'd insulted him in front of all her friends and the only reaction he could think of was to kiss her.

Well, why not?

Draco winked back at her.

***

The exultant feeling of victory turned to apprehension when her alarmingly unpredictable husband winked back at her.

"I love it when you talk dirty," Draco murmured, lifting a hand to her hair and stroking her cheek with his thumb.

There was a dangerous glint to his eye and Hermione swallowed convulsively as he slowly, deliberately, brought their lips together.

It was the same and so very different.

The world disappeared again and Hermione's hands lifted around his broad shoulders, her fingers digging through his silky hair and pulling him even closer to her as they deepened their kiss.

Alternate 'awws' and gagging sounds were drowned out in the background as Hermione pressed herself into Draco, drawing into his strength as she explored his passion.

Abruptly, he stopped and she blinked at the unexpected abandonment.

"We're leaving," he muttered hoarsely, scooping her into his arms to clear the table before taking her hand to drag her from the Great Hall.

Dazed, Hermione followed his lead.

The second they were out of view, her back hit the wall and he crushed her against him again.  The entire length of his body ground against her and feminine power surged through her blood as she tasted his desire on her tongue and against her body.

There was no need for this, except that he wanted her and the thought of denying the answering flame inside her body wasn't something she could even consider in the inferno of need that coursed through her.

***

They stumbled back to their rooms as quickly as they could with Draco barely resisting the temptation to take her in the empty hallway.

When they were less than 20 meters from their door, he picked her up and ran.

Hermione laughed against his chest and he shut her up, tracing delicate circles on the inside of her knee and lowering his lips to her neck.

She gasped their password and Draco dropped her legs, lowering her gently to the floor as he clawed the robes from their bodies.

He reapplied his lips to her neck and Hermione gasped again, arching into his body a manner designed to destroy him.

She was intoxicating and the need to be consumed with her filled him so pressing, he was in pain from want of her.

The fear that she'd suddenly remember their situation made him all the more passionate in his overwhelming desire to keep her in the moment.  At this very second, Hermione Malfoy wanted him and he wasn't about to remind her of all the reasons she shouldn't.

In the back of his mind, he heard a door close but gave no thought to it, intent on the woman beneath him as he explored her body.

"Draco Malfoy!" 

He froze, recognizing the voice immediately.

"She's your wife, you can't tumble her in the entryway!  I thought we taught you better!"

If the earth could have opened up to swallow him, he would have found the spell to make it happen.

Ideally bringing Hermione along to finish what they started in the Underworld.

Pulling slowly away from his wife, Draco met Narcissa's horrified gaze as Hermione swore quietly.

"Mother," he swallowed, "What are you doing here?"

Narcissa frowned, "Dumbledore said under the circumstances that…  Hermione, why didn't you tell him?"

Draco froze, letting his gaze drop slowly back to the woman still pinned beneath him.  "That's a good question, Hermione," his lips tightened, "Why _didn't _you tell me?"

***

Hermione swallowed carefully at the look on Draco's face.

Clearly not ecstatic about his mother's presence in their rooms.

"Dumbledore suggested she wouldn't want to be alone, having lost her husband.  I just thought she could stay with us for a few days," she licked her lips quickly.

His jaw hardened and he rose to his feet, pulling her with him.

"And you didn't think to mention this because…?"

"I was distracted," she mumbled in annoyance, loathe to spell out _why, _exactly, she had been robbed of all thought, when he was being such a prat about it.

"Mother, if you'll excuse us, please?" Draco took her hand and dragged her to his bedroom, mumbling a silencing spell the second the door was closed.  "Are you INSANE?"

"Yes.  I said your mother could stay here if Dumbledore allowed it.  I'm a raving lunatic," Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Hermione, she can't STAY with us, she'll figure it out!"

The harsh reminder that all of this was all just a game of pretend came as a much needed douse of cold water on any embers of desire for him.

"We put a silencing spell on the room this room at night, I think she'll draw the appropriate conclusions," Hermione gritted her teeth.  "You think you can handle that, Malfoy?"

"You moved your stuff in here?" he looked around his room with a frown.

"Welcome to marriage, Malfoy," she glared at him.

***

Draco took a deep breath, trying to control the urge to throw things.

His _mother _was staying with them.  He was in school, he was supposed to be safe from this sort of parental torture.  For Merlin's sake, he was _married. _ Did the woman **live **to destroy his life?

Good lord, she had chastised his style of lovemaking in front of Hermione.  Well, not so much style as locale, but it remained the height of humiliation.

Just imagining where they could be right now if not for his mother's interference renewed his rage.

At least Hermione had the spend the night in his room for awhile.  There had to be advantages to _that.  _A smile briefly flitted across his lips as he considered his wife, the slightly tussled look to her hair and the brilliant red of her lips from the attention he'd been giving them.

Maybe his mother wasn't evil incarnate after all.

"So…" he stepped closer to her, "Whatever shall we do while you stay with me?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and pushed him away from her, "Save it for an audience, Malfoy.  We wouldn't want anyone to _figure out _anything, now would we?"

She stomped from the room, leaving Draco to replay the last few minutes in his head with a frown.

Bloody hell, he closed his eyes.

If he knew Hermione like he thought he did, this was going to take some serious sweet talking.

Draco bent to temptation and started hurling things against the wall.

TBC


	8. Chapter Eight

Hermione Malfoy, Chapter Eight

A/N:  Umm…whatever you asked, consider it answered…or ask again so I'll remember next time.

Getting back in Hermione's good graces would have worked much better if the wench would let him talk to her.  Instead, she constantly engaged in conversation with his _mother.  _

A mother and daughter-in-law conversing amicably…

Why did this kind of unnatural occurrence only happen in _his _family?  Draco rolled his eyes.  He had to ask.

Two days.  48 hours.  At least 18 of which would be spent in close quarters with Hermione.  Hopefully, they would not be a repeat of last night's experience, wherein she surrounded him with a silencing spell and had sparks jump out at him if he came within two feet of her.

There was a possibility she was still mad.

Unfortunately, he knew from personal experience that she wasn't the type to let these kind of misunderstandings just blow over.

He would need help from someone with experience.

The person who seemed to piss her off most was Ron Weasley, but the likelihood of Ron thinking his way out of her ire was up there with Potter lying his way out.

Fucking goody-goody.

'Twas enough to make any self-respecting Slytherin nauseas.

Draco listed possible candidates to give him…he shuddered…advice.

All of _his _friends were idiots, save Blaize Zabini, who was still pissed about the 'gender clarification' comment.

Seriously, no one could take a joke anymore.  It was pathetic.  

It wasn't Draco's fault Zabini actually took his advice.  How was he supposed to know that kind of spell turned one from a man to a woman every other day?  Honestly.

You'd think there was no cure from the glares he'd been receiving.

Blaise actually looked rather good in female form, she should be thanking him.

Bloody hermaphrodites.

She'd probably just lie if he asked her advice anyway.  Pissing off a Slytherin was unwise enough if they were male.

So…on to the Gryffindor list.

Ron was out.  Fighting before lunch was so unappetizing.  And he'd rather shower with the Hufflepuff Boy's Club than ask Potter.

So that really just left one possibility…

***

"Hey Weas-Ginny!"

Ginny's eyes widened to find her best friend's husband running toward her.

"Uhh…hi," she blinked up at him in confusion, hoping his sudden appearance had nothing to do with the sex discussion he'd stumbled on.

"Hi," he looked around suddenly, "Are you headed to class?"

"Well, I would have been in half an hour, but I have Defense Against the Dark Arts," she shrugged, "So I guess not."

Draco frowned, "So…you don't like that class?"

"Uhh…the teacher left, didn't you hear?"

"Bloody hell," he muttered, "You'd think they could try to at least stick out the year."

Ginny shrugged, "Fine with me.  So did Hermione want something or…?"

"Right, listen," Draco swallowed, "You've known Hermione awhile, right?"

"Yeah…"

"So if you had, hypothetically, pissed her off in some way, what would you do about it?"

Ginny smirked at him, "First fight?"

"No!" he snapped, "We've…fought before," Draco pouted.

"Then I'm sure you're a pro at this," she grinned, walking around him.

"Hold up," his fingers cut into her arm, spinning her back around.  "Perhaps we've never been very good at making up."

"You try sex?" Ginny laughed at the look on his face.

He mumbled something, looking down.

"What was that, Malfoy?"

"She won't let me close to her."

"Don't tell me you're not smooth enough to talk your way into her pants, Malfoy.  If she fell for it once, she's sure to do it again."

"It's a little hard to do when the only time she doesn't break out a silencing charm is when my mother is in the room!"

Ginny laughed in delight, "What did you DO, Malfoy?"

"Just tell me how to get her to lift whatever force field charm she has around her."

"Oh, no, Malfoy, first you tell me how you managed to piss off your bride so quickly."

He scowled at her.  "Gryffindor's honor you won't tell anyone?"

She lay her hand on her chest solemnly.

"There _may _have been an incident where I yelled at her after my mother caught us snogging."

"Ahhh…" Ginny struggled to keep a straight face, "Well, that falls into an area of very grave male sin.  Not considering her feelings."

***

Draco swallowed.  That sounded like something his mother bitched to his father about.

Considering what an insensitive prick Lucius had been, it might be prudent to just confine Hermione to the list of the unshaggable.

But he just hated to do that without photographic proof of lesbianism.

For Draco liked to think that he could have any woman he wanted…that wasn't gay or married.

True, Hermione was married, but to _him_, so that didn't count.

In fact, it was almost his _responsibility _to make a woman of her.  Marriage came with certain obligations, after all.

"So what do I do?" he mumbled, hoping the redhead knew some secret girl bypass for giving Hermione time to think, which couldn't possibly work in his favor.

"Give her time and then apologize."

"Umm…thanks," Draco winced.  "What if that doesn't work?"

"You're screwed," Ginny beamed at him, sashaying her way down the hall.

Draco considered her suggestion.  There had to be another way.

***

"Draco!  Did you hear about Professor…" Pansy's voice trailed off in confusion as, apparently, she forgot the professor's name.

Considering every other professor had been around since their first year, Draco gave her the benefit of the doubt and assumed she meant their Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

"Yeah, I heard.  Would you look at the time?  I have class."

"Dra-co!" Pansy pouted, "Does you getting married really mean we can't even talk anymore?"

Sweet Merlin.  If only!  "I'm not that lucky, Pansy."

Pansy chuckled, "Oh, don't be so mean," she slapped his arm playfully, looking over his shoulder.  "Oh, look, there's your…lovely…wife now.  Who is that with her?"

Draco's head spun, meeting his wife's determined gaze immediately before she looked down.

"Bloody hell!" Pansy hissed next to him, "Isn't that your…"

"Mother, yes," he muttered in annoyance.

"Draco, darling," his mother waved to him, "Just who we were looking for.  Dumbledore's given us permission to go on an outing to Hogsmeade together as a family."

Draco turned terrified eyes to Hermione.  Surely this couldn't really, truly be happening to him.

"Let's go, son, grab your broom," Narcissa pulled a pin from her hair and enlarged it into a broom.

"Mother," he whispered hoarsely, staring at the end of her broom, "What is _that?_"

She held up her broom and frowned at the banner attached to the back of it, "What is what?  Oh, this!  I'm just so proud of you, darling!"

"Proud parent of a Slytherin Head Boy," Hermione read the banner slowly, her mouth quirking in what had to be her first smile since they were caught in the hallway.

"Mother, you can't take that in public!"

"Why ever not, dear!  They're all the rage, you know!"

It wasn't just the words.  It wasn't merely because the thought of her flying around with a sign like that flying out of her arse could humiliate him to the grave and back.

It was the picture of them, together, surrounded in silver glitter that he had the real problem with.

If nothing else, it was very clear he had to make his marriage work…cause his chances of getting laid just plummeted.  

***

If Hermione was being completely honest with herself, she would admit she felt a bit sorry for Draco.

But even that kind of self-awareness can't overcome the sheer satisfaction of watching his mother browbeat him into coming along with them to the Three Broomsticks.

Every time someone entered the room, he jumped, his eyes flying to the door to see if it was anyone who knew him.

Sometimes she would throw a look behind him, just to see him spin.

Hermione smirked into her butterbeer.

"Say, now, let's do shots!" 

Draco met her eyes across the table and slowly, they both turned their eyes to the speaker.

"What?" Narcissa beamed back at them, "It's a time for celebration.  Shots over here!" she shouted to the bartender.

"What are we celebrating?" Hermione asked nervously, the only event coming to her mind the death of Lucius Malfoy, whom she, herself had not been particularly fond of, but the others in the room ought to have been at one time or another.

Narcissa frowned as the bartender set their drinks in front of them.  "Your marriage, for one!"

"Oh!" Hermione blushed and Draco laughed.

He took her hand, lifting it to his lips.  "How could you forget, love?" he winked at her.

She reminded herself she was mad at him and watched as her mother-in-law downed her whiskey.

What the hell?

***

Doing shots with his wife and mother wasn't really _ever _something Draco'd planned to do on a Friday night.

But he eventually decided the least he could do was drink himself to the point of unawareness.

If he were unconscious, for example, he couldn't see his mother trying to drink Hermione under the table.

"Well, well, well," a voice interrupted his musings.  "If it isn't the Malfoys."

Draco turned to see Rita Skeeter approach their table.  He wasn't sure why she felt the need to bring her twin, just one of her was enough.

"Rita, darling, join us," Narcissa offered merrily.  "Thish is my shon, Draco and his jusht DARLING little mudblood bride, Her-mi-o-ne."

Trying to figure out what was wrong with what his mother just said, Draco frowned and turned to his wife, who was glaring at her mother-in-law.

"No, no, Narshisha, that's why I hated HIM!" she pointed an accusing finger at Draco, "That language is unacshep…shep…" Hermione frowned, "not called for."

"Oh, I'm shorry, Her-mi-o-ne," Narcissa looked crestfallen at the slip of her tongue, "I love you, shweetie."

Hermione waited a moment, considering the matter, but nodded magnanimously, wrapping her arms around her mother-in-law.

"Wait," Rita tried to clarify the situation in front of her, "You, Draco Malfoy, married Hermione Granger.  Why?"

Draco ignored her, staring at Hermione as she swayed a bit in her chair.  He slid around the table, pulling her onto his lap.  She giggled as he played with her hair and whispered unintelligibly into her ear.

"Uhh…never mind," Rita muttered, turning to Narcissa instead.  "Is there any other news you'd like to share with Witches Weekly, Mrs. Malfoy?"

"Oh, yes, darling, I've fabulous news!  I'm going to be a Professor at Hogwarts!"

Draco's lips froze in their trail down Hermione's neck. 


	9. Chapter Nine

Hermione Malfoy, Chapter Nine

A/N:  Due to…well, my own convenience, I'm going to try to finish this story up in like three chapters or something.  Eh, we'll see, though.

Hermione Malfoy, Chapter 9

A/N:  I am going to up this story to an R rating starting next chapter just so I don't have to be concerned about anal people.  Just to warn you kids.

A/N, the Sequel:  I am not going to be updating this story much.  But I'll finish it eventually, fear not.

To say the announcement had a sobering affect on Draco would be like saying Avada Kedevra'd had a calming affect on Voldemort.

Hermione wasn't quite sure what to do about his reaction or if she even wanted to venture down that road.  He hadn't even tried to make nice to her, not that she was used to Draco ever being nice to her, but after they practically shagged in the hallway, he could at least have the decency to try talking to her.

Men.

The day began ordinarily enough for Hermione, minor exceptions being the massive hangover, sharing the bathroom with her mother-in-law and dealing with her surly husband.

Not that he wasn't always surly.  He just hadn't always been her husband.

Hermione made a face.  _Husband.  _That made her feel really old.  Like…30.

"How's your head, dear?" Narcissa smiled.

"It's been better," Hermione grimaced, "Do I recall you saying you'll be teaching our Defense Against the Dark Arts class?"

"That's right," Narcissa nodded, "There's nothing for me at home anymore."

Losing those sadistic, murdering husbands could be a real kick to the domestic life, Hermione supposed.

"Well, we have that class first, so we'll be seeing you soon.  Do you need help moving into your new room?" Hermione asked hopefully, "Draco and I have an hour free after lunch, isn't that right, _sweetheart?_"

***

"Actually, I'm not really hungry, mother, if you'd rather I take your things now?" Draco suggested immediately.

Free time to move his mother out of their space?

He had that right now.

Narcissa chuckled, "Don't think I'm not aware what you kids are up to!"

Hermione went scarlet and Draco would have kissed Goyle to find out what she was thinking.

Hopefully it involved some type of nudity or the sacrifice just wouldn't be worth it.

"Don't let us stop you from leaving, Mother," Draco smirked, pulling Hermione to his side and kissing her neck.

"Draco!" she hissed.

He nibbled her ear.

"Problem, love?"

"Nothing a hex wouldn't fix," she smiled sweetly.

"See you in class then?" he backed hesitantly away from his bride.  Given, as she was, to fits of violence.

"Well, I'll see you BOTH in class!" Draco's mother grinned widely.

Draco and Hermione eyed each other nervously as Narcissa bounced from the room.

"Well…she gets her own room, right?" Hermione smiled hesitantly.

"Yeah…that makes the situation just perfect.  Thanks."

***

"What's your problem, Malfoy?  Sleep on the couch last night?" a male Blaise smirked in the direction of his fellow Slytherin.

The last thing he needed was to watch Hermione with her friends that morning, so he'd sat in his traditional place, but he couldn't help the permanent scowl on his face at Hermione's obvious comfort without him.

At least it distracted him from the coming class.

"You'd never have to sleep on the couch with me, Draco," Pansy winked at him.

"Pansy, I'm eating," Draco made a face.

"Speaking of strange sexual habits," Blaise smirked, "If I'm always attracted to woman, does that make me straight or gay?"

"I think it depends on the day," Crabbe frowned.

"So are you actually attracted to yourself?" Draco smirked.

Zabini rolled his eyes, "We don't all line our walls with mirrors, Malfoy."

"Those are just the ceilings," Draco smirked.  "I'd show you on another day, but my wife might have a problem with it."

"Speaking of the lovely mu-"

Draco gave Zabini a sharp look and Blaise swallowed.

"Mu-Mrs. Malfoy," Zabini smiled triumphantly, "Give details, man, how is she?"

"I'm not telling you how my wife rates as a lover."

"Always told us before," Goyle muttered.

"I was with whores before."

Pansy gasped at this insult.

"Get over yourself, Pansy, I never talked about you."

"Why bother?" Zabini smirked, "No new information."

"Sod off, Blaise Zabini, I never shagged you!"

"Let's try to remember why," Zabini rolled his eyes.

Before the Whore and the Hermaphrodite could launch into a detailed account of why they had never shagged, Draco quickly spit out his news.

"So my mother's the new Professor."

The Slytherins stared at him.

"Yeah, that's what I thought too."

***

"Mmm…Blaise is looking good," Ginny winked at Hermione, "I might have to try out this Slytherin thing."

"I'm not hearing this for so many reasons," Ron plugged his ears and started humming loudly.

Ginny smirked.

Harry was looking between Ginny and Hermione with horror and Hermione decided to mess with him.

"Go for it, Slytherins are great in bed," she encouraged Ginny.

Potter joined his friend in humming and began slapping his head repeatedly, shaking it back and forth violently.

"Oh, I can tell that," Ginny smiled.

"He does spend fifty percent of his time as a woman, though," Hermione reminded Ginny needlessly.

She shrugged, "No one's perfect."

Hermione chuckled, "We could double date."

"How IS the dating scene after marriage?" Ginny raised an eyebrow.

Ron took his fingers out of his ears hesitantly and Hermione smiled.

"We never really leave the bed."

Ron grimaced as his fingers forcefully re-entered his ears.

Ginny smirked, "Now give me the real answer."

"Haven't been out in ages, unless you count drinking with his mom last night," Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I forgot about his mom, that's so priceless."

"She's sticking around," Hermione made a face.

"I thought they were only letting her visit a couple days…?"

"Sure, until she decided to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Ginny spit her coffee.  "Bloody hell…I'd pay to see this."

"I don't think Draco's taking it…well."

"How long does it take to whip up that Polyjuice Potion?" Ginny smirked, "I have to be there."

"Sorry, Gin, we have it first."

"Bloody hell, Hermione, why do you get to have all the fun?"

***

Draco made a mental note to discuss class time with Hermione.

The way she always sat with the Gryffindor freaks was annoying.

They had to present a united front or this whole plan would crash and burn.

Not that there weren't a few fond moments to remember her by.

"What could you possibly be happy about?" Blaise muttered.

"I'm a newlywed, Zabini."

"Please, Malfoy, your mom's staying with you."

"Silencing charms, git, welcome to the wizarding world."

"If you're getting so much action, why does the bride never look your way?"

Draco shrugged off his annoyance with that very thing.  "You want Gra-Hermione to let herself be distracted in class?"  He shook his head sympathetically at the poor, dull witted Blaise.

"You expect me to believe that-"

"Watch," Draco smirked, turning toward his Gryffindor bride.

Her eyes flickered toward his as she leaned over Harry to flick Ron's ear.

Draco ran his tongue along his lips slowly and winked at her.

***

Hermione froze at Draco's boldness, his tongue tracing his lips with exquisite slowness.

Harry turned toward her in confusion and she slipped, landing in Harry's lap and rolling down his legs to the other side of the table.

The Gryffindors gaped at her in horror as she landed at the feet of their new professor.

"Hermione," Professor Malfoy frowned in confusion, "Why aren't you in your seat?"

Draco snorted and Narcissa sent him a chastising glance.

"Draco, dear, do behave."

"Sorry, ma'am," Hermione muttered, glaring at Draco as she slipped back into her seat.

"Yes, well…hello class, I'm your new teacher for Defense Against the Dark Arts, Professor Malfoy.  Before we begin, do any of you have any questions for me?"

Contrary to every other class at Hogwarts, every hand in class shot up except Hermione's.

Even Draco had his hand in the air, though it soon became clear it was there merely to pull Zabini's hand _down _rather than out of any desire to ask questions.

"Well, gracious…umm…Mr. Potter, is it?   I suppose I can start with you."

"What kind of history do you have in Defense Against the Dark Arts?" Harry asked, clearly doubting the widow of the most notorious death eater knew anything useful on the subject. 

"I spent a great deal of time around dark wizards, young man, one can never be too prepared, you know."

"Have you ever been a teacher before?" Pansy asked slyly.

"I have not, Ms. Parkinson, but I'm sure you'll help me out wherever possible so I can tell your mother how well you're doing when we get together Sundays.  Isn't that so?"

Pansy nodded enthusiastically, gulping.

"Well, I'll just tell a bit about myself, then if that is what all your questions are about.  Draco, dear, be a love and shut the curtains for Mommy?  The light's getting in my eyes."

***

Clenching his teeth, Draco waved his wand toward the window.

"Thank you, sweetheart.  Anyway, I went to Hogwarts myself when I was young.  The product of Slytherin, as you might have guessed.  I was Head Girl, like my daughter in law now," she nodded approvingly.

Goyle raised his hand hesitantly, "When did you graduate?"

"Trying to figure out my age, Gregory?" Narcissa frowned.

Baffled, Goyle shook his head.  Apparently, simple math was beyond his consideration.

"My last year was 1969-"

Blaise snorted.  "You were Head Girl in '69?"

The gasp of laughter from the class covered the sharp yelp from Blaise as Draco's wand dug into his ribs.

"Avada-"

"No!  I'm sorry," Blaise hissed.

Draco chuckled and removed his wand.

"Not hard to believe I was a favorite amongst the gentleman, is it, then, Mr. Zabini?" Professor Malfoy raised her eyebrows.

Breakfast made a return trip up Draco's throat as he fought the images in his mind.

"Is that a consistent theme amongst the Head Girls in your family, Malfoy?" Crabbe asked.

Before Draco could react, the Slytherin against the wall, flailing, and Hermione's wand was drawn.

"My apologies, Professor, my wand slipped," Hermione shrugged.

"Quite all right, Hermione," Narcissa nodded, ignoring the student dangling awkwardly from the wall.

Draco grinned at Hermione, her face easily replacing his mother's in his imagination.

A shoe nailed Potter in the head and Draco turned to gape at the 7th year boy with the terrible aim.

"Pathetic, Crabbe," he muttered.

"10 points from Slytherin for throwing shoes and missing the intended target.  That's really quite shocking, Vincent." Narcissa shook her head.

The next shoe bounced off of Weasley and hit Hermione's pen.

Narcissa frowned, "Another ten points off Slytherin for hitting my daughter in law, but five points back on for actually getting it in range this time."

"But, Professor…she stuck him to the wall!" Pansy objected.

"That was an accident, though, Ms. Parkinson," Narcissa shook her head.

His mother was taking points off of Slytherin…because of his wife.

Wonderful.  His popularity would just skyrocket.

***

Hermione grinned.  This class was better than she'd thought.

15 points off Slytherin and the teacher was on her side, for some reason.

Perhaps if she did shots with Snape, things would change in Potions?

"20 points to Slytherin," Narcissa spoke again, smiling lovingly at a glowering Draco.

"For what?" Ron stammered in confusion.

"For Draco," she smiled, "He was such an adorable baby.  Had the most squeezable cheeks."

Stomach dropping, Hermione's eyes slid immediately to her husband's, which stormed with barely repressed anger.

"Hermione reports he still does-OW!" Harry grimaced, grabbing his shin and glaring at Hermione.

"Shut up, you prat," Hermione blushed as the class chuckled.

This situation would never work out.  Drinking buddy or not.

***

Mercifully, the class ended without a Q & A on Draco's years growing up and the various embarrassing moments in his life.

"We need to talk," Draco pulled his wife away from her friends.

"About…?"  She raised her eyebrows.

"About my mother and the way she's ruining our plans by the second."

Hermione swallowed and looked up at him cautiously, "What did you have in mind?"

"That's why we need to talk."

"You want a plan to get your mother to leave?" Mrs. Malfoy raised her eyebrows, "Something diabolical, twisted and deeply Slytherin?"

Merlin, those words on her tongue were hot.

"Say that again," he muttered.

"Diabolical?" she asked.

"Keep going," he muttered.

"Twisted?" she smirked.

Bloody hell, he could get off on this.  

"Deeply…Slytherin?" Hermione raised her eyebrows.

Draco swallowed hard and pulled her roughly against him.  Their lips met feverishly as he slammed her against the wall.

TBC


	10. Chapter Ten

A/N:  I realize that this chapter has been a long time in coming and I'm sorry that you guys had to wait.  I know how that is and I hate it myself.  HOWEVER, on the flip side, in the time since I last updated, I wrote a screenplay, so I can't really say I regret it_, _now can I?

So does this mean that I will be updating more often?  Nope.  Sorry.

I have a lot of other stuff to write, so this story will basically be the story that I continue when I take a break from my other stuff.

Is there any good news here?  Absolutely.  I haven't abandoned it and have no intention of doing so.

A/N 2:  If you want me to update THIS story, please review this story.  Reviewing another story and telling me to update this one is just annoying.  All the reviews are emailed to me.  I get them all, at the same time, no matter what fic you review…so yeah…it's annoying.  Stop that.

A/N 3:  I got awards!  This one got the PIR award for Best Comedic and Dracilla got Best One Shot from Contra Veritas.  It made me giddy, so thank you guys who voted for me.  (Or, you know, the one crazed stalker that voted for me a whole bunch)  I absolutely adore your taste.

A/N 4:  This is now rated R.  This has no bearing on whether or not they have sex, I'm just upping the rating so that I can write whatever I want without being concerned someone will freak.

A/N 5:  OK, now I'm just being silly.

OK, let me catch my breath a bit here and we'll get going…

Hermione Malfoy, Chapter 10 

She tasted like oranges.  Thirst quenching and addictive.

Every nerve in Draco's body hummed with sensation as he pressed against his wife's soft, willing body.

The heat of her mouth overtook his senses and he broke away, kissing slowly down her neck.

She moaned and threw her head back into the wall.  "Draco."

This was it, it had to be.  No parents, no interrupts…and no room, he noticed, cursing to himself as he surveyed the broom closet he'd dragged her into.

Bloody hell.

Ordinarily, he'd have no problem with shagging her against the wall, but it didn't seem like a good route to go for one's first time and he strongly suspected it would be Hermione's.

No, he needed a place with romance, atmosphere… or at least a flat surface.  Surely, just his presence was mood enough for any girl.

"Hermione," he pulled away from her and caressed her hair softly.  "Let's go back to our room."

Her eyes opened lazily and she smiled.  He almost collapsed in relief.  Finally.

"That's BRILLIANT!"  she exclaimed suddenly, jumping away from him.

"Umm…thanks," he smiled, "So let's go," he took her hand, fully prepared to carry her if she wouldn't go a little faster.  He could practically taste it, that moment when the could finally-

"-- have everyone over at our place!"

Draco blinked, "WHAT?!?"  No.  No!  Exnay on the company.  One on one,  that was the key, here.

Hermione started pacing and waving her arms around.

"It will solve all our problems at once!"

Draco didn't feel she had proper handle on what 'all their problems' were if they could be solved with a bloody dinner party.  What they _needed _was a bed.

"The Slytherins don't like your mother," she continued, "The Gryffindors don't like your mother.  What better way to bring about inter-house relations than uniting against a common enemy?"    

"Not actually the kind of uniting I had in mind…" he muttered, his brilliant fantasies fading before his eyes.

"Come on, let's go invite people!"

***

Hermione marched along rapidly, trying to find her friends and put her brilliance into action.

Draco had said he'd be along 'in a few minutes' though how he could suppress his excitement at a time like this was beyond her and she'd said as much.

He'd laughed in a way that sounded pained, "Merlin, Granger, you have quite a way with words."

Well, of course she did.  Hermione sniffed.

"Harry!" she waved at her friend.

"Hey, Hermione," he looked around her, "Ditch your husband?"

"He'll be along momentarily," she frowned, "I think.  Anyway," she waved away the unimportant details, "We're having a meeting tonight in our common room and I would really appreciate your support.  You, Ron and Ginny.  Would you please come?"  she pleaded with him.

"Malfoy's gonna be there?" Harry made a face.

Hermione scowled, "I really need you, Harry, pleeeeeease?"

Harry sighed.  He couldn't compete and he knew it.  "Fine, we'll be there."

"Where will we be?" Ginny snuck up on them.

"The Malfoys are having a little get together," Harry made a face.

"It's more of a meeting," Hermione corrected, "You'll be there, yes?" she smiled at Ginny.

"Wouldn't miss it," Ginny grinned, "So tell me, Hermione, why did I just see your husband coming out of a broom closet ALONE?  You should be with him for these kinds of trips."

Harry swallowed as the conversation toward things he didn't want to acknowledge, let alone think about.  "Umm, guys, I think I'm just gonna-"

"Oh, _that," _Hermione shrugged, "He wanted to stay in there a couple more minutes.  Who knows."

Harry turned green and Ginny burst into peels of laughter.

"What, exactly, were you doing in there, young lady?"  Ginny chuckled.

Hermione blushed.  "Noth-  None of your business!"

"Apparently enough for him to need alone time," Ginny crowed gleefully.

"How would you-" Hermione's eyes widened, "OH!"

"Gotta…sit down," Harry muttered faintly, limping away from them.

***

Instead of running around trying to catch up with his minions, which wasn't at all dignified and quite the annoyance, Draco simply owled them all to politely request their presence.

**Goyle.  8:00 in my common room.  Be there.  Malfoy.**

**Crabbe.  Read Goyle's.  Malfoy.**

**Zabini.  8:00 in my common room.  Get everyone out by 9, though, I have plans.  Malfoy.**

**Pansy.  This is not a bloody love note, get that repulsive expression off your face.  Be in my common room at 8:00 and there are other people coming, so whatever you planned to wear, rethink it.  Malfoy.**

*******

Hermione avoided her husband for the rest of the day, as she knew the second she saw him, her face would match Ginny's hair.

Of all the things not to pick up on...

She blushed again and Ginny giggled.

"Reliving it?"

"Shut up, Ginny."

"Hermione, really, you're a married woman.  If you're still this innocent, Malfoy isn't doing the job I expected," she smirked.

"Of course he is!" Hermione snapped.

"So what's your favorite position?" 

"Ginny!"

"What?  You're the only one having sanctioned sex, so tell me about it."

"I don't have a favorite," Hermione replied primly.

"Her-mi-o-ne," Ginny whined.

"So whose robes are you trying to get in currently?"

"Oh, speaking of that...is Blaise coming to the thing tonight?  There's gonna be Slytherins, right?"

Hermione shrugged, "I'd assume so...but she's a she today."

"So?" Ginny winked, skipping up to the Gryffindor common room, "See ya, Mrs. Malfoy!"

***

Draco had no idea where Hermione had gone off to, but no offense to his new bride, she didn't have THAT many friends.  

So she'd either been kidnapped, was studying in parts unknown...or she was avoiding him.

Not ONLY him, but the mind-boggling sex they could be having.

It was an inefficient use of time, to say the least.

One second, they were going at it like mad.  The next, she was gone.  

If she'd simply owled her friends like a normal witch, they could have gone back to his room, shagged all afternoon and been nice and relaxed for the party.

See, planning ahead.  One would think the Head Girl would be better at it.

But _no.  _

The door slid open and in she walked.  

"Oh, hi," she stopped to admire her feet as a dark blush spread across her cheeks.

"I will buy you anything you want if you tell me what you're thinking right now," he smirked as Hermione actually went a shade darker.

"Homework," she muttered quickly, racing to her room.

She'd be back, he nodded confidently.  Clearly, she was having dirty thoughts about him.  9:00 couldn't come soon enough.

He just needed to get her alone on a bed without interruptions.  His sheer animal magnetism would take care of the rest.

And if, in the meantime, all her Gryffindor friends started acknowledging him as their leader, well…it made for a successful evening, all things considered.

Power and sex.

It was like Christmas.

***

Hermione had a problem that she never would have expected.

She was having a great difficulty resisting the urge to snog her husband senseless.

Of course, this would be a perfectly healthy desire, if it was a real marriage, her husband weren't an utter prat or she could find some way to deny personal responsibility.  Like…she went into heat.  Or…suddenly had no control over her body.

Neither possibility seemed as far out as one might think.

Hermione fanned herself with her Arithmancy paper.

There had to be a simple, logical way to sort this all out.

She took out a new sheet of parchment:

_Shagging Draco Malfoy:  Pros and Cons._

**Pro.  **Rumor had it he was quite skilled in the matter.

**Con.  **He'd never let her hear the end of it.

**Pro.  **Any bragging he did would be immaterial because the whole world assumed they were shagging anyway.

**Con.  **The 'you know where that's been?' factor,  e.g. Pansy Parkinson.

Hermione made a face.  That was a bad one.

**Pro.  **She wanted to.

**Con.  **There was a vague, but horrifying possibility that she might want _more.  _

**Pro.  **He was gorgeous.

She smiled.

**Con.  **He was emotionally unavailable.

**Pro.  **He was beautiful.

No, that was a repeat.  She crossed it off.

**Pro.  **She'd finally have something to talk about with Ginny.

Chuckling, she thought of Ginny's new interest.

At least ONE of them should be getting some Slytherin action.

Hermione sighed.  She was spending way too much time with that Weasley wench.

***

"Draco?" Hermione's voice carried over to him and he smiled.

He knew she'd be back.  "Did you need something?"

She shifted back and forth, looking uncomfortable.  "Yeah, I was wondering…"

If he'd be able to satisfy her every desire?  Absolutely.  If he would be gentle as he guided her into womanhood?  Sure.  They could get crazy the next time.

"…is Blaise Zabini single?" 

Draco blinked.

Hermione waited.

Draco blinked again.

"_What _did you just ask me?"

"Is…Blaise Zabini single?" she repeated slowly.

"That's what I thought," he stood up slowly, "Now _why _would you want to know?"

"Oh, gracious, Malfoy, it's just a simple question!"

"_Yes, _Zabini's single, why the hell do you care?" he stepped closer to her.

"None of your business!" she snapped.

"The hell it's not, you're my wife!"

"Did anyone ever bother to tell the Malfoys that 'wife' is not actually synonymous with  'possession' in this century?  And that's even assuming this marriage is _real, _which it is NOT."

Not real.  Over-reacting.  He repeated to himself.

"We had a deal," he pouted.

"Oh, right, the deal.  Where I ask a simple question and you turn into a bloody prat about it?"

"You know what I'm talking about.  We don't see anyone inside Hogwarts."

Hermione blinked and then a slow smile spread across her face.

"You're _jealous!" _ She sounded delighted.

Bloody hell.

"What?  You're crazy.  Fine, go do Zabini if you like.  In fact, take pictures, since she's a woman today.  Just don't let anyone else know."

"I'm not interested in Zabini…on any day of the week."

"Oh," he muttered, carefully examining his cuticle.

"A friend of mine was wondering.  So I thought I'd ask around."

"Potter, right?  I knew he was a switch hitter.  Unfortunately for him, Blaise only likes women."

"I'm sure that will break his heart," Hermione rolled her eyes.

"You already did that when you married me."

"Harry does NOT like me!" Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Oh, I never said he liked _you," _he smirked.

Hermione shoved him.  "Tell me when they get here."

She stalked to her room.

Great.  Sitting around waiting for Potter.

This evening could have been so much better.

***

Hermione carefully changed 'emotionally unavailable' to 'emotionally unstable.'

Malfoy was extremely jealous and possessive.

She put it down as **pro.  **

TBA…


	11. Chapter Eleven

_Responses to stuff I remember:_

_No, I still don't want to read the books.  Deal, please._

_The spacing is beyond my control.  So if you like it, you hate it…thanks/sorry, but it has nothing to do with me, it is just the result of uploading html files.  Oh, and if your entire review was based on the spacing:  You need to get laid.  It's pathetic._

_I'm not making any efforts to end this story.  Simply put, I will continue with my irregular updates indefinitely and see where the story goes._

Hermione Malfoy, Chapter 11 

They were here, Draco grimaced, opening the door.

He greeted two scowling Gryffindors.

"Pothead, it's been too long, I thought you didn't like me anymore."

"I will never like you, Malfoy."

Draco sighed, "Granger said the same thing, once upon a time.  But alas, your time for that sort of attention is over, I'm a married man."

"Sod off, Malfoy, we're here for Hermione," Weasley scowled at him.

"Ahh yes, of course," he stepped aside for them to enter.  "My love, Potter and his boyfriend have arrived," he shouted to Hermione.  "She'll just be a second."

Ginny slipped in after them, looking extremely good, Draco noticed.

"Ms. Weasley, looking lovely, as always."

"Hey Malfoy," she grinned, "How was the broom closet this morning?"

"Ginny!" Harry interrupted her.

"What?  Malfoy doesn't care if people know he's going at it in the closet…I mean, he might not like them knowing he was alone…"

Draco's eyebrows shot up.

"Ginny, I swear, if you ever loved me," Harry begged.

Ginny glowered.  "You can't keep using that, it was first year!"

"Room full of Gryffindors and Malfoy," said a voice from the door, "And to think I almost sent you and owl telling you to sod off."

"You could always go, Zabini," Draco shrugged, "Don't you have important things to do?  Like strip down and look in the mirror?  Actually, I could grab a mirror…"

"Sod off, Malfoy," the brunette smiled, her eyes flickering appreciatively to the lovely redhead and then back to Draco in amusement, "If this is how you are trying to inspire inter-house relations, consider me inspired."

Ginny grinned and stretched out her hand, "Virginia Weasley, pleasure to meet you properly."

"Blaise Zabini.  And the pleasure's all mine."

***

To be completely fair, it _was _physically possible for Ronald Weasley to be a bigger wanker than he already was.

He just lacked the Slytherin cunning and ambition to really take that last step.

Draco snickered to himself as he observed his redheaded nemesis, drooling from afar at the fair Blaise, hermaphrodite extraordinaire.  

"Merlin, Weasley, she's a lesbian that wants your sister.  Stop drooling on our rug and let us get down to business."

"Draco!" Hermione jabbed him.

Blaise and Ginny ceased their flirting, much to his disappointment, and glanced rather uncomfortably at Ron, who was turning back to his natural color.

"So I wrecked the mood," Draco glared at his wife, rubbing his sore ribs, "They'll get back into it when he stops staring.  Isn't that right?" Malfoy raised an eyebrow at Blaise.

"You're such a git, Malfoy," Potter glared at him.

"I'm sorry, did you say something?  I was momentarily distracted by your hair."

"Shut up, Malfoy," Ron's hand hovered over his wand.

"It is so cute when you stand up for your boyfriend's honor," Draco sniffed, "I'm moved.  Truly."

"Draco…" Hermione glared at him and their eyes met.

Her message was very clear.  

He had two options.

Number One:  He could continue to rip on her friends and give up any miniscule shot he had at finally shagging the hell out of her.

Number Two:  He could be the bigger man, apologize for his rudeness and maybe get into her knickers within the hour.

Either option went against everything he believed in.

"Shall we begin, then?" he looked around the room.  "If everyone could take a seat, Hermione and I would like to discuss a matter of great importance."  

Grumbling, everyone made their way to different seats.  

"You've all been chosen for your loyalty to either Hermione or myself."

Pansy straightened with pride, beaming.

"Parkinson, he's not talking about some blow job from fourth year, get over it," Zabini muttered.

The two girls glared at each other.

"If any one of you is unable to promise that nothing said within these walls will be repeated, you may leave now," Draco looked around the room, meeting every eye.  "Those in Slytherin understand the consequences of crossing me.  If you're in Gryffindor, it would be even worse for you," he smiled.  "Not only are you betraying my wife's trust, but I just don't like you in the first place.  Don't give me the opportunity."

Harry frowned at Hermione, "You're okay with that?"

Hermione shrugged, "As long as he doesn't get caught."

The Gryffindors mouths dropped and Draco had to stop himself from crowing with glee.

Fabulous.

"On with business.  Hermione, my love, would you like to start?"

***

They'd thought it best that Hermione outline the plan for everyone as the Gryffindors were the least likely to go for it.

They had "morals, ethics and that sort of rot" as Draco put it.  

What a terrible influence that beautiful man was.

"I want you to be aware before we begin that there is a chance that being part of this could get you expelled."

Harry's eyebrows raised, "Hermione, are you sure you want to risk it?"

"You _must _be joking, Potter, does it really just have to be _your _ideas that she risks expulsion for?" Draco rolled his eyes.

"Sod off, Malfoy, they're always Hermione's…" Harry trailed off suddenly, but Draco caught on.

"Always Hermione's ideas," he smirked.  "Of course.  Do you honestly think anyone would believe The Boy Who Lucked Out and the Poor Man's Pureblood could come up with any kind of intelligent plan?"

Hermione frowned.  Her husband was ripping on her friends.  Again.  But in such a way that it emphasized her own intelligence…hmmm.

"Hermione, are you really going to let him talk to us like this?" Ron crossed his arms defiantly.

"Sod off, Weasley.  You're poor.  Hermione already knows you're idiots, she's the one that's had to put up with you."

Despite her tendency to agree with Draco's assessment, it wasn't nice of him to draw attention to Ron's financial state.

"Ron's finances, or lack thereof have no bearing on his intelligence, Draco," she muttered disapprovingly.

His eyes gleamed at her statement.  "I know that, love.  It's just an amusing coincidence."

Ginny rolled her eyes at the fight and turned her attention to Blaise.

Ron sputtered.  Harry fumed.

Hermione took advantage of the relative silence to proceed.

"Due to the increased difficulties in both Slytherin and Gryffindor due to a certain new teacher that we all know…Draco and I have decided it be best if Professor Malfoy were to retire."

Harry whistled.  

"You're taking out your own mother now, Malfoy?" Weasley asked, "Isn't that a new level of sick?"

Draco looked offended.  "Don't be such a prat, Weasley.  ….this is nothing."

"We've gathered you here for a brainstorming session.  We would like this teacher out of the way.  If anyone doesn't wish to participate, they can feel free to leave.  Just be aware that anything you repeat about this meeting will be taken into account when it gets back to us.  Also keep in mind that it is impossible to just get one of us in trouble…" Hermione frowned, "Where did Ginny and Blaise go?"

"Off snogging in your room, " Draco shrugged.

"But we were having a meeting!"

***

"Won't they miss us?" Ginny smirked as Blaise pulled her into her best friend's room.

"With all that fighting? They won't notice til we get back, if then."

"So what will we do here, then?" Ginny asked, leaning back on Hermione's bed.

Blaise crawled next to her, running her eyes along the younger girls slender body.  "I just thought we could talk," Zabini smiled, stretching out on her side and smiling.  Her green eyes sparkled and Ginny swallowed.

"What's it like to switch from gender to gender?"

"Kind of strange if you have to pee," Blaise shrugged.

"Is it true you're only attracted to girls?" Ginny raised an eyebrow.

"Absolutely."

"You know, you're beautiful as both," Ginny murmured, meeting Blaise's eye for a moment before looking away.

Blaise played with a strand of Ginny's vibrant red hair.  "Well, I'm glad you're ended up a girl…cause no offense, but your brother does nothing for me."

Ginny laughed, "Thank Merlin."

"Ginny!" the door burst open and Hermione stalked into her room, "We're trying to having a meeting!"

The girls sprang from the bed and Ginny slipped into Hermione's desk.  "We were just, umm…looking at your notes," she smiled innocently as Hermione rolled her eyes.  "Right?" she turned to Blaise.

"Absolutely," the brunette smiled, looking over her shoulder to join in the 'study.'

"See?" Ginny smirked at her friend.

"But you're missing everything I've been saying in the-"

Blaise gasped next to Ginny and the redhead turned abruptly, following the beauty's gaze to the parchment on Hermione's desk.

"Pros and cons of SHAGGING MALFOY?" Ginny laughed, "I can't believe you made a list, how old is this?" she started reading.

The color drained from Hermione's face.  "Give me that.  It's private."

"Not a chance, Granger," Blaise picked up the parchment and backed away from the Head Girl.

"[Insert whatever the fuck spell knocks someone down]," Hermione sent Blaise flying and Ginny gasped, grabbing the parchment before Hermione could retrieve it.

"What the bloody hell are you trying to do, Hermione?  It was just a joke…" her voice trailed off as she looked down at the parchment and she looked back up again, "It's not real?"

Hermione sighed and shook her head.

"But you were all over each-"  Ginny trailed off and a slow smile spread over her face.  "Come on, Blaise, are you all right?" she offered a hand up to the other girl and then carefully inspected to make sure she was all right.

"Zabini, I'm sorry," Hermione muttered.

Blaise waved it off as Ginny continued to tenderly search for injuries.  "Benefits far outweigh the pain, don't worry about it."

Ginny rolled her eyes and backed off.

The Slytherin scowled.

***

"Welcome back, my dear," Draco nodded to Hermione as she returned with the escapees.  "To sum up what you just missed:  Parkinson thinks we should kill her.  Potter things we should maybe just talk to her and ask her not to be so herself in front of people."

Goyle raised a hesitant hand.

"Yes?"

"Why can't we kill her?"

Draco cleared his throat, "She's my mother, fuckwit."

"Then why can't you talk to her?"  Weasley frowned.

Malfoy cleared his throat harder, "She's my MOTHER, fuckwit."

"I'm sure we can find a happy medium," Hermione squeezed Draco's hand reassuringly.

He clamped onto her and interlaced their fingers, running his thumb lightly over her wrist.

Her eyes flew to his and she shivered delicately.

Draco was beginning to think Ginny and Blaise had the right idea…just slip away and do unmentionable things to each other…

Well, unmentionable in the 50s.

Now there were any number of ways to put it:  Shag, fuck, bone…

"Shut up," Hermione interrupted his thoughts.

How could she possibly…?

"But Hermione-" Ron whined.

Ahhhh, she was talking to Weasley.  That made a lot more sense.

Draco almost made the mistake of asking what Weasley said, but caught himself just in time.

"So any more genius ideas?" he asked instead.

"Do you want her to quit or be fired?"  Potter asked.

"Quit…or be fired in such a way that she could claim to have quit."

"So we couldn't claim she performed an unforgivable," Pansy frowned.

"I'd rather the rest of my family stayed out of Azkaban, thanks, Parkinson."

"Oh!" Pansy smiled, "What if she had a relationship with a student?"

Draco blanched.

"Who?" Ron wanted to know.

"Not you," Pansy glared at him and looked around, "Malfoy's the hottest…"

"Don't even THINK of continuing that sentence, Parkinson," Draco hissed, muttering a spell under his breath.

"In case no one picked up on my subtle message before," he pointed out the new sign, with large, bold lettering:

**She's my mother, fuckwit.**

"Now," he crossed his arms, "I will hex the next person who doesn't keep this in mind."

"Hey, I'll take one for the team," Blaise shrugged.

Draco met Blaise's eyes and she stopped, her gaze flickering nervously at the sign.  "Kidding, Malfoy."

***

Hermione cleared her throat as Draco muttered something or other about Zabini being lucky it was a girl day.

"Clearly, we'll need some time to think about this, come to us with any ideas you have and we'll be able to form a plan to suit everyone."

"Does anyone need to take the sign with them?" Draco raised an eyebrow.

"No, but we're taking Hermione with us," Ginny looked at Hermione meaningfully and pulled her out the door with  Blaise.

"Whoa!" Draco grabbed hold of Hermione's arm, "Not a chance."

Ginny tugged her friend the other way.  "Let go, Malfoy, we're having a girls night."

Draco paused.  "What kind of girls night?"

Ginny dug her heels into the floor and Hermione grimaced.

"The kind with pictures?" Blaise suggested.

Ginny toppled.

TBC


	12. Chapter Twelve

Hermione Malfoy, Chapter Whatever-the-fuck (oh! It's 12, carry on!)

A/N: Umm.consider this my bashful look. (Not updating and whatnot.)

A/N 2 aka "Random Sharing": So I caused a three-car accident today. Two cars totaled.my car barely has the paint scratched. Heh. What can I say? Totally didn't need all that insurance. But anyway.

A/N 3 (the thank you portion): Some of you like to be thoughtful and thank every single one of your reviewers. You might think that I avoid this because there are a lot of people I'd need to thank. That's not true, I'm just lazy as hell. So, we'll just say it in one: Thank You to all those that love this story and are nice enough to say something. I appreciate it and I love it.

A/N 4 (assurances): Haven't quit, still going. Will I be updating more frequently?!? Drum roll. Umm, no. Sorry.

^Heh. That was fun. Anyway.on to the story.

***

As he had learned very well growing up, a wife was the person to see to your physical needs when no one more attractive was present, order about the house elves so everything ran smoothly and sit around the house, looking pretty.

All in all, Hermione had to be the worst bloody wife _ever._

The fact that the marriage was, at best, a political strategy, only made it that much more annoying.

"Malfoy," Pansy crawled next to him on the couch.

"Bloody hell!" Draco jumped. "Where did you come from?"

She gaped at him, "I've been here the whole time, you were looking right at me! I told you about how-"

It became clear why he'd tuned her out in the first place.

He couldn't believe Hermione would just take off. They had _plans, _after all. Well, he had plans. But they were pretty fucking important plans. People did not just consummate non-marriages _every _day of the week. He grinned. Well, he certainly intended to, but that wasn't the point.

SNAP. He blinked.

"Draco, I'm TALKING," Pansy glared at him.

"You're still here?" he groaned. "Get out. I'm busy."

"You're staring into space, mumbling incoherently!" 

"Right. So what about _that _involves YOU?" he raised an eyebrow.

"I just thought, you know, since your wife is gone, you might want some company?" Pansy asked in what she had to think was a seductive voice or he'd really like to believe she wouldn't use it.

"I'm fine, thanks. Run along. Don't you have rounds to make? You might be late for your 9:00 and throw off your entire evening," he tisked. "Ohh, wait, you could double up, do Crabbe and Goyle at the same time."

She glared at him, "I'm not some cheap whore, Draco!"

"Don't get much cheaper than free, Parkinson."

"As I recall, you're not so hard to get yourself," she pounced onto his lap, grinding her body against him.

To his disgust, he reacted to the friction and Pansy grinned triumphantly.

Draco rolled his eyes and stood up, letting her fall to the floor in a heap. "If you're trying to prove how remarkably indiscriminate the male body is, you really couldn't do better. Impressive," he sneered. 

"Damn you, Draco Malfoy, you'll never know what you're missing!"

"Syphilis?"

Pansy was beyond words in her rage, but her face turned a very defiant shade of red as she storm/crawled out the door.

He was being propositioned by Slytherin sluts while Hermione hung out with that girl, Weasley and a questionably gendered freak.

All in all, not that different from any other day.

***

"So you really _haven't _had one," Ginny smirked.

"Haven't had one of what?" Blaise wanted to know.

Hermione glared at her friend, "Nothing, nevermind."

Ginny and Blaise exchanged a 'Tell me later?' 'Oh, hell yes' look that did nothing to improve Hermione's mood.

"So.you read the whole thing?" the Head Girl asked nervously. "Both of you?"

"Enough," Blaise settled into a chair with amusement. "So normally, I would be finding out how much you're willing to pay for my silence, but since you're now practically Slytherin-by-marriage, I'll let it slide."

"Worried about Malfoy kicking your ass?" Ginny asked.

"Like you wouldn't believe."

"So you guys won't say anything?" Hermione started breathing again.

"Not to anyone else," Ginny sat back, "But we might tell Malfoy about that list unless you spill on the details," she grinned cheekily.

Blaise's mouth dropped. "It might be early to mention this, but I think I might love you."

Hermione pouted. It was so unfair. Why couldn't _her _love life be simple, like Blaise and Ginny's?

They laughed uproariously.

What?

"You think our love life is simple?"

Bloody hell. Thinking. Speaking. There was a difference. And honestly, a bisexual and a hermaphrodite? Did things get easier?

"You're a Malfoy now," Blaise shrugged, "Not much filter from the brain to the tongue. And _you _try switching from boy to girl."

Hermione's eyes widened. Did she do it again?

"No, you just have an expressive face," Blaise chuckled.

"ANYWAY!" Hermione cut off the discussion before she had to crawl under Ginny's covers and gag herself. "I'll just be off then."

"Oh, no," Ginny shook her head, "Not until you give me the juicy details on why Merlin's name you haven't shagged Malfoy into the ground."

***

Knocking on the door, Pansy muttered to herself.

__

Syphilis. Ugh.

Not only was that an insult to her taste in men.she didn't just jump sailors right off the dock, thank you very much, but it was a degrading statement about her abilities as a witch, for who couldn't mix a simple STD potion, _really._

She huffed.

"Yes?" her teacher opened the door, finally.

"Miss Parkinson? What can I do for you?"

"I need to talk to you, Professor Malfoy," Pansy did her best to look sorrowful.

***

"You just left him in the closet?" Blaise wiped tears from her eyes, "Merlin, that's too priceless."

"Well I didn't realize it was.umm.such a big deal, until Ginny mentioned it," Hermione muttered defensively.

"She told you about it?" Zabini asked her 'friend.'

"Right in front of Harry," Ginny nodded.

"Oh no," the Slytherin held her stomach, "I have to pee."

"Anyway," Ginny took over point from the convulsing brunette, "Why have you not hit that?"

"We're married, Ginny!" Hermione explained carefully.

"All the more reason! Seriously, Hermione, if you pass this up, you'd be in a category on your own as the only person that waited for their second marriage."

Hermione studiously ignored the loud snort from Zabini. Yes, _her _life was funny. Bloody hermaphrodites. "Look, I'm not waiting for my second marriage!"

"Then what _are _you waiting for? Everyone in the wizarding world knows, or soon WILL know you're married to Malfoy. Unless you give it up to a muggle, which," Ginny made a face, "I don't really recommend, a boyfriend down the line would wonder. Believe me."

"Well, I'm sure I could find one would understand and I don't know what I want," Hermione shrugged, "Love.a connection? Someone I haven't hated all my life?"

"You know what they say about love and hate," Ginny shrugged.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Secretly, they're the same?"

"Hell, no, but they both make for some _great _sex."

"This is ridiculous," Hermione shook her head obstinately, "I can't just.shag Malfoy!"

"You can. You will. It's just a matter of time, " Ginny shrugged. "In fact, you can go now that we have the story."

"OH, no!" Hermione planted herself in the sofa and pulled her wand defensively.

"Merlin, Hermione, I wasn't going to drag you there! It won't even be hard, he'll do all the work. You just have to show up."

"He might be asleep-"

"Pfft," Blaise rolled her eyes, "Malfoy goes to bed around three."

"But, I just, he-" Hermione tried to explain.

"Uhh." Ginny nodded slowly, "We'll keep that in mind."

"If what you've said is true, Malfoy hasn't been laid in, what, a month now?" Zabini chuckled, "If you've the slightest interest, he'll get you eventually, probably the next time you see him."

Hermione swallowed, images flooding her mind. Draco kissing her, undressing her, worshiping her body until-

"-have an idea now, or it won't work."

Zabini was still talking. "Pardon?"

"If you don't want our local Head Boy to shag you until you can't walk. Which, personally, I think you do-"

Her cheeks heated and Hermione shook her head furiously. While she couldn't deny wanting to rip his clothes off and jump him, she most certainly DID want to walk. What an embarrassing accusation!

"-or it won't work."

Huh? Hermione grimaced. _Sorry, didn't hear you again. Fantasizing, you know. _ "I agree," she spit out quickly.

"Good. So what's your plan?"

"She doesn't need a plan, she's gonna go back to her room and jump him. Aren't you?" Ginny asked.

"Erm, no, I couldn't just-"

Ginny frowned, "All men are easy, Hermione, you could."

"Hey!" Blaise pouted, "I resemble that-- Well, sometimes resemble, that remark."

"Just part of your charm, baby," Ginny winked.

"Couple hours, I can show you the other part," Zabini grinned.

"Oh, either way is cool with me," the redhead gave the Slytherin a once over.

Girl-on-girl-'til-the-girl-turned-boy-action.right in front of her.

Springing to her feet quickly, Hermione walked for the door, "Actually," she babbled, "I'm sure I can go back, he's probably asleep and we're mature adults, I'm sure there won't be a problem and I can just turn him into stone or something if he tries something, it's Malfoy-" she tugged on the door.

"Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"Alohamora," Ginny muttered and the door opened.

"Right, then. I'll be going."

"Cheerio, love," Blaise waved her off and started kissing Ginny's shoulder.

"Wait," Hermione frowned, looking at the ceiling. "You're a Slytherin and shortly, you'll be male, you're not allowed in-"

The image of their faces as they read her pro and con list flashed before her eyes.

She cleared her throat, "-you guy have a smashing evening!"

***

"Phobic?" Blaise raised an eyebrow.

"So it seems," her date grinned, "What_ever _shall we do without her?"

"Tell Parvarti we caught them shagging in Dumbledore's office?"

"You have such a beautiful mind," Ginny put a hand over her heart.

"Just wait 'til you see my rack."

***

Hermione tiptoed back into their common room, trying to see in the darkness.

Amused, Draco watched as she slunk past him toward her bedroom. Surely it wouldn't be _wrong _if he just bent to temptation this once.

In fact, it would really be a travesty if he didn't.

Oh hell, who was he kidding? He didn't give a fuck anyway.

***

She was almost there. A few more steps and she would be safe. One more day of survival without seduction. Without her bloody humming and Draco's body pressed up against her.

His hands gentle, but firm against her, pulling her further and further into the abyss of passion, running all over her body.

Why was she avoiding this again?

Hairs prickled on the back of her neck and she heard someone screaming as a large hand clamped onto her ass and she found herself in midair.

"Pelamicus!" was the first word out of her mouth and she immediately regretted it. A, her wand was on the floor where she dropped it. B, it didn't mean anything and C, by the way Draco couldn't stop choking, she suspected the whole thing was marvelously entertaining for him.

Bloody hell. She couldn't just get a normal husband, could she? Hermione pouted as she surreptitiously peeled her body from the ceiling.

"Trying to freeze a llama, Granger?"

"Shut up, Malfoy, I'm going to bed."

"Whoa, whoa." he was off the couch in a flash, his arms around her waist, "Let's not be too hasty, love. Why the rush? Let's sit, talk. Bond as a married couple?"

"Well, I might be interested in whatever you've been drinking, but let's save it for the weekend, no?"

"C'mon, Mrs. Malfoy. Let's talk," he maneuvered her onto the couch. Well, not so much the couch as his lap.but he was on the couch and didn't seem to find it necessary for her to move away.

"Draco."

"Good start," he nodded, nuzzling the nape of her neck, "Just louder, with feeling," he grinned against her skin and kissed her.

The hand on its way to slap him dropped abruptly and Hermione moaned softly as he sucked and nipped her skin, leaving a trail of open mouth kisses to her lips.

There had been a very good reason for her not to be doing this, but she failed to recall what it could be as his tongue massaged hers, sending waves of electricity through her body, every nerve tense. Ready.

He explored her mouth so possessively, she felt captured, helpless.and powerful. Her body moved against him, straining for closeness and Hermione grinned when he broke away with a moan.

***

His fingers moved under her skirts and up her legs, pulling her hips down, hard against him.

She was moving against him without protest and he couldn't wait much longer for her. It had been six weeks, a _long _six weeks since he'd been laid and the idea of finally moving inside her almost made his eyes cross as his hips bucked, rubbing against the ultra thin material that separated them.that absolutely needed to go.

Pushing her back into the couch almost roughly, Draco tried to find her buttons, but the damn things eluded him.

Hermione chuckled and lifted her shirt over her head, "That what you wanted?" she asked, tracing his calf with her foot.

"It's a start," he nodded quickly, slipping his fingers into the waistband of her panties and tugging to get them off.

"Oh no," she shook her head, "You lose your top first. Only fair.

"It would be fair if you lost the rest of yours," he looked pointedly at her lacey bra as he unbuttoned his shirt teasingly. "You like?"

"I'll survive," Hermione shrugged, pulling him back down on top of her.

Draco smiled against her lips, flicking her bra open with practiced ease.

***

Her bra disappeared rapidly and Hermione gasped as his chest pressed against her as they kissed. His tongue explored her mouth as his hands possessed her skin, sliding higher and higher until she wanted to scream in anticipation.

CRASH!

They both sprang up on the couch and Hermione clutched Draco's shirt to her chest, oddly embarrassed to be caught half naked in front of what turned out to be the Malfoy family owl.

"What-?" 

Draco had no time to ask before the red letter was dropped and started screaming.

"**DRACO MALFOY! WHAT'S THIS I HEAR ABOUT YOU TRYING TO GET ME FIRED?!? OF ALL THE UNGRATEFUL, SPOILED BRATS! EXPLAIN YOURSELF IMMEDIATELY!!**"

Swallowing slowly, Draco glanced at his wife. "So.I'm guessing that killed the mood?"

TBC


	13. Chapter Thirteen

A/N 1: What? What? Oh…Merlin, is this…did she update? You're damn right.

A/N 2: Does this mean all my threatening reviews to update have finally paid off?!? Umm, no and you're still a freak.

A/N 3: First two author's notes should be read in a spirit of love. Lots of Love.

A/N 4: Am I going to update again and again now that I have escaped the entanglements that prevented me from doing so previously? No, and I really shouldn't be now, but shoot me.

Hermione Malfoy, Chapter 13, I think:

As he stalked down the halls toward his mother's rooms, Draco planned his attack.

Deny. Deny. Turn Blame. Deny.

And of course, bitch about her bugger-me-backwards timing.

Did she think that married people spent all their time having sex? No! They had to leap at whatever chance they had and if Hermione was never 'in the mood' again, he was _sooo _curtailing her spending. There were perks to inheriting large estates.

"Malfoy!" the very wife he'd been thinking of came barreling down the hall toward him.

"Hermione," his eyes flickered over here, "Dressed, I see. Pity. What can I do for you?"

"Draco, we were interrupted-"

"Yes, love, I realize this must have been distressing for you, but as soon as I deal with this bother, I'd be pleased to shag you senseless."

"Oh, no, I-"

"Fine," Draco sighed, "But it has to be a quickie," he pulled her into a conveniently located classroom and made short work of her top.

"Draco-"

"These are quite lovely and I promise to devote a great deal of time to them later, but-"

"DRACO!" Hermione pulled his face level with hers, destroying the excellent view he'd been enjoying. 

"Hermione?"

"I just wanted to come with you…in case I could help with your mother?"

Oh.

Well…bugger.

"Okay…" he muttered.

"Smashing," she grinned, re-buttoned her top and flounced from the room.

His wife would rather talk to her mother-in-law than shag him. He was _seriously _losing his touch.

There had to be more to it. Maybe an afterthought?

__

"These are quite lovely and I promise to devote a great deal of time to them later, but-"

Draco stopped moving. No. He hadn't. It was not possible that he, Draco Malfoy, had committed the cardinal shagging sin.

Ignoring the boobs.

Bloody hell, if she wanted a quick, unsatisfying tumble in the classroom, she could have gone to Weasley!

***

A quickie? Honestly. Hermione fumed. It wasn't as though they were capable of getting it on without being interrupted anyway. What they _really _needed was to be caught going at it in the classroom! Ugh.

Men.

And what was this 'devote a great deal of time to them _later' _business? Was that really what Draco 'I'm a bloody sex god' Malfoy had just said to her?

Later?

Hermione dismissed the issue that she hadn't been trying to seduce him anyway, the fact still remained that _he _hadn't known that and had been fully prepared to brush aside the all important breasts.

She scowled at him when he came out of the classroom. Bloody hell, if she'd wanted a quick, unsatisfying tumble in a classroom, she could have married Ron!

"Hermione, I-"

"I think we should play innocent."

Draco looked at her blankly, "Pardon?"

"With your mother."

He rolled his eyes, "Of course. Deny at all costs."

"What if she has Veriwhateverthefuck?"

"She wouldn't have it on hand," Draco dismissed.

"Oh no?" Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"She wouldn't use it on me anyway, she trusts me."

Hermione regarded her husband, "So what are you going to do?"

"Uhh…Lie," Draco gave her a weird look, "What do you take me for?"

***

When they arrived at Professor Malfoy's room, Narcissa was blubbering uncontrollably.

Apparently the time they spent talking and snogging was enough for her to move from rage to tears.

On the one hand, his mother was one of the scariest people he knew when she was angry…

But crying women sent him into a panicky state of distress that he hadn't thought to ever let Hermione become aware of. Seriously…_ever._

"Dracoooooooooooooooooooooooo," Narcissa wailed at the sight of him.

"Mother," he gulped, "You wanted to see me?"

"You," she gasped, "want me," she blew her nose on her sleeve and Draco covered Hermione's eyes in horror. "Gonnnnnnnnnnnnnnnne!" Narcissa burst into renewed tears as Draco planned his escape from the mucous monster.

"No, Mother, I would never!"

Narcissa squawked her disbelief.

Hermione handed his mother a handkerchief and Draco couldn't have been happier to have brought her along.

Anything to stop the weeping, the goo…Sweet Merlin, the bubbles! 

He could feel the walls caving in around him.

"What was it?" Narcissa sniffed, "Did I spoil you too much as a child?"

"Undoubtably," Hermione muttered.

Draco glared at his wife, forgetting the handkerchief miracle mere moments before. Really. This wasn't the time for that sort of interjection. 

"No," he shook his head, "You did a wonderful job raising me, mother. Just look at the results!"

He chose to believe any gagging from Hermione's direction was merely in reflex to the snot bath in front of them.

But he sent her a subtle glare, just in case.

"Professor Malfoy, your son loves you very much," Hermione assured his mother.

Draco made a face. How…_mushy._

"Do you?" Narcissa raised large, red-rimmed eyes and puffy, flared nostrils to him hopefully.

He swallowed, trying to focus on a point just beyond her head. "I…umm, of course, Mother."

"You darling boy!" Narcissa flung herself into his horrified arms and pressed her wet face into his neck.

Draco froze as he fought back the automatic upchuck reflex at the thought of what she was rubbing into his hair. There were no conditioners deep enough.

She kissed his cheek and pulled away with pride, leaving a trail of horror across his face.

Hermione snickered and Draco glared at her.

This was _her _fault with that 'he loves you' bit.

Oh, she would pay.

…probably when she discovered he'd lost any and all ability to maintain an erection.

Should have taken him up on the classroom thing.

***

It simply couldn't have happened to a nicer person, Hermione grinned as Draco frantically removed any and all germy residue from his oh-so-pretty features.

He was sure to start jumping up and down any time now.

Unexpected perks of being a Malfoy…never a dull moment.

"Professor Malfoy, what was it that caused such distress?" Hermione clucked sympathetically as Draco ignored them, rubbing harder at his cheek.

"Miss Parkinson-"

Draco froze and their eyes locked, "PANSY said something?"

Narcissa's eyes narrowed, "Said something about what?"

"Said something to distress you, mother," Draco shook his head sympathetically. "I'm sorry, it's my fault-"

Hermione frowned at Draco. He had never accepted blame for anything in his entire life, what on earth was going on?"

"How could it possibly be your fault, Draco, darling?" Narcissa purred.

The woman was deeply delusional.

"Pansy kissed me this evening," Draco started to explain.

Hermione frowned, "She WHAT?"

"Oh, I pushed her off," Draco waved off her concern.

"And you just happen to be ready to go right when I get home?"

Narcissa looked a little sick, "Really, Hermione, that's most unladylike-"

They ignored her.

"Oh, come on. She kissed me, I shoved her off my lap and that was it," Draco rolled his eyes.

"What was she doing on your lap," Hermione asked tightly.

Not that it mattered. He could do anything he liked. It wasn't a real marriage. None of this was real. But it WAS against their agreement and wouldn't it be quite unnatural for a wife not to care?

She tapped her foot to await his response.

"I don't know," Draco shrugged, "I was distracted."

"Undoubtably," Hermione snorted.

"Oh, not like that," he rolled his eyes.

"Professor Malfoy?" a voice interrupted their debate and everyone turned to see Pansy Parkinson in the doorway.

"You!" Draco and Hermione glared at her and she took a step back.

"Hi…" Pansy smiled hesitantly.

"You talked to my mother?" Draco glared at her.

"You kissed my husband?" Hermione's eyes jumped with fire.

"I can see this is a bad time…" Pansy backed quickly through the door, "Be seeing you!"

***

They caught up to her with no trouble.

Freezing spells will do that.

"Care to explain how you happened to spill our little secret to my mother?" Draco slammed Pansy up against the wall.

"It was all part of my plan."

"To get even with me for marrying Hermione?"

Pansy glared at him, "How stupid do you think I am?"

It wasn't that he didn't have an answer to that…it was just that he had to many.

Draco turned to exchange glances with his wife, who appeared to be in similar quandary.

"Fine, don't answer that…but have I ever betrayed you?"

Draco raised his eyebrows.

"…in a non-sexual way?"

He smirked.

"…this week?"

Hermione snorted.

"…other than tonight?"

"No, no, you have me there," Draco gave in and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Out of morbid curiosity, what is this plan?" Hermione asked the girl.

"Well, I figured…maybe if she was upset…she wouldn't mind doing things that aren't exactly…part of the rules?"

"You were trying to emotionally abuse my mother into doing things that would get her fired?" Draco grinned in delight, "Continue."

"Well, I figured if she were unstable in some way, if given substances that would alter her decision making ability-"

Draco considered Pansy's suggestion, "That's good, except she's the DADA professor, she could spot that kind of potion a mile away?"

"Who said anything about a potion?" Pansy removed a bag from her robe and Hermione snatched it from her, eyeing the leafy substance.

"Is this what I think it is?"

"You're a mud blood, you ought to know," Parkinson sniffed haughtily.

"Pansy," Draco warned.

"Muggle-born," Pansy corrected automatically, "Slip of the tongue."

"Like you slipped your tongue down Draco's-"

Draco restrained Hermione with a hand around her waist, "Ladies, no need to fight over me right here. Should there really be a need, we should go somewhere private and lose the robes."

Hermione and Pansy both glared at him.

What? He was serious.

Draco sighed, "Parkinson, you bought yourself a lifeline."

Hermione gasped, "You TRUST her?"

"She's Slytherin," Draco shrugged.

"So no, then?" Hermione smirked.

His eyes narrowed, "Of course not…but I'm still willing to see her try."

"You're willing to see your mother fired for smoking pot?"

Draco shot his wife a stunned look. His mother had destroyed his _sex life._

He was willing to see her fired for pretty much anything.

TBC


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Author's Notes and Dedications sections:

A/N 1: Yes, it has been awhile since I updated. Yes, it will be a long while before I update again. No, I have not finished the story. NO, if you bomb my house, it will not speed the process.

A/N 2, my first dedication: To the person who said that this is the worst story they have ever read: I laughed for hours, thank you.

A/N 3, my second dedication: To the person who said I should be ashamed of myself for not updating. It is on my list after not getting my brother a birthday present, not getting my other brother a wedding present and not finishing my screenplay until now because I started this fucking story in the first place. But duly noted.

A/N 4, my third dedication: To myself, for having That good a rack. It's true.

Nothing else to say except: Happy Birthday, Lea!

And so…here we go:

Hermione Malfoy, Chapter 14

by scarlet (superscar)

So there had been smarter ideas.

Privately, Draco blamed the entire debacle on a bad case of blue balls. Blood flow, etc, etc.

How else could he have agreed to a plan that entailed Pansy Parkinson getting his mother high?

It was against everything he believed in.

For Merlin's sake, he'd let Pansy Parkinson THINK.

It was too horrifying.

The whole thing had started simply enough...

Two Weeks Earlier:

Pansy smirked and trotted off to do Malfoy's dirty work, leaving Draco to forget the horror of the evening and dwell, instead, upon the fact that Hermione was there, before him looking - well, a little flustered, but not nearly as dishevelled as she would be after-

"We should be there," Hermione turned to him sharply, eying him in that disturbing way she had when she was about to suggest something other than sex.

Life was so unfair.

Draco sighed. "When you say 'there' I naturally assume that you don't mean the warmth of our bed?"

"What are you talking about, Malfoy?" Hermione looked deeply confused.

Damn her.

"Obviously, nothing important," he pouted.

Other than the continuation of the species.

"Right, then, we ought to go with Pansy to make sure nothing goes wrong."

"What?" Draco scoffed, "She's a Slytherin, what can go wrong?"

Hermione raised her eyebrows. Skeptical wench.

"Fine. What's your plan?" he asked.

"Well, we can't let your mother see us."

"Uhhh, yeah... No shit, Granger."

"No need to be crude," Hermione sniffed, taking off toward the Halls of Gryffindorium in a huff only to spin around a moment later. "Well? Come along, Malfoy."

"...uhhh...where?"

"To get Harry's cloak, pay attention!"

"You're going to go digging through Potter's closet?" Draco made a face.

"Yes. Coming?"

"Love to, but you'll have to lose the shirt-"

"Huh?"

Merlin. Did she need a fucking lecture to understand this concept?

Well, yes.

She probably did.

Draco trotted along after her, "So question, do you have to come out of your own closet to be gay - or does Potter's like, triple the gayness?"

Hermione gave him a withering glance.

"Just asking."

* * *

So Harry "Fucking (but-not-in-the-good-way)" Potter had an invisibility cloak.

The very SAME invisibility cloak Lucius had said QUOTE "They're too expensive."

Draco supressed the urge to jump up and down crying and bit down, hard.

"Son of Bith!" he screamed.

Hermione jumped, "What?"

"Bi mi ton," he pointed at his mouth pitiously.

Damn that Potter.

"Awww, poor baby-waby, you want mamma kiss it better?" Hermione cooed.

Draco showed her what to kiss.

Hermione threw the cloak over him.

"Hermione, what are you doing here?" Harry walked into the room with a puzzled look on his face, the very expression that made Draco want to slap the shit out of him on a daily basis.

Harry's eyebrows furrowed.

No that, THAT was the look.

"I'm here with Draco."

Harry lifted his furrowed eyebrows. How was it even possible? The bastard! "He in your pocket?"

"Do stop being ridiculous, Harry, he's got the invisibility cloak."

Draco smirked. And what fun could be had with such things?

"Ouch," Harry grabbed his shin, "What the fuck, Malfoy? Hermione, why'd you tell him about it?"

Backing across the room, Draco threw his voice the other way, "It wasn't me!" he declared indignantly and rushed forward to cream the other shin.

"Going somewhere?"

Draco stopped his foot mid-kick to find Hermione holding the cloak right next to him. How embarassing.

"Spider!" he stomped on Potter's foot and the boy screamed. Girlishly, too, Draco noted with satisfaction.

"Draco!" Hermione grabbed his ear.

He shrieked.

"What the hell, woman!" he pulled his head away from her evil hands.

"Harry, I'm sorry that my husband assaulted you. Draco, I'm sorry that you don't have more common sense and decency."

"No complaints about the cock, you'll notice," Draco smirked at Harry.

Hermione pursed her lips in annoyance....and transfigured him into poodle.

So he peed on her.

* * *

Ron wandered into the fray just as Hermione was explaining the situation to Harry.

"...so we can't just let Pansy do things by herself."

Ron snorted, "Pansy's a bloody fuckwit, what's she trying to do? Hey, cute dog-" He leaned over to pet it, but it yelped and hid behind Hermione. "Ooookay, so what's up, guys?"

"Pansy and her _genius _idea is about to get Hermione expelled," Harry shrugged.

"No need to be extreme, Harry, no one's risking their life here," Hermione snapped.

"Drug dealing?"

"Well, _this _just got interesting," Ron grinned.

"None for you," Hermione glared at him.

"You're sooo no fun now that you're married," Ron tisked.

"Because she was all broomsticks and butterbeer before that?" Harry raised his eyebrows…and the poodle bit him.

"Hey!" Hermione yelled at the dog, "Are you ready to be good?"

"What the hell," Ron muttered. It was like she expected it to have an intelligent answer.

The poodle nuzzled her leg.

"All right," she pointed her wand and muttered a spell and Draco was standing in front of them.

"Ahhhhh," Ron nodded…though it still didn't explain about the intelligent response.

"My love, you will pay for that," Draco's whisper dripped down her spine and Hermione's body exploded in goose bumps.

"Just behave," she muttered sternly, wondering what, exactly, he had in mind.

"Let's go," he took her hand and picked up the cloak on the way to the door.

"One moment," Harry stopped them. Or rather, had somehow rigged the door to never open despite Draco's cajoling. It was quite clever, really. Shocking he'd come up with it. "We're coming with you."

Oh no, that would not work at all.

"Harry, that's impossible-" Hermione tried to explain.

"Fuck no, Potter, open the bloody door," Draco cut in.

"Eloquent, thank you, _dear_," she glared at him.

"We're not going to fit - the TWO of us will barely fit."

"So we stand close together," Harry shrugged.

"Potter, this little crush has got to stop. I'm flattered," Draco sighed, "But I'm married. See?"

Harry ignored him as anyone of common sense would.

"Hermione can be in the middle -"

"You're leaving me out?" Ron glared at his friend.

Draco glared at Ron, "Weasley, how much of Pansy's dope have you been smoking? We have one cloak - one SMALL cloak."

"And fries?" Hermione chuckled to herself. Small cloak and fries. She chortled more. They could be a drive-thru.

The boys exchanged glances.

"Muggle humor?" Ron looked to Harry for confirmation.

"Sort of," Harry grimaced, "It's muggle, just…horrendously unfunny."

Like Harry was some sort of comedian, Hermione pouted.

* * *

"ANYWAY," Draco brought back the conversation to where it should have been - on him, "Where was I? Oh, right - stop being a bloody fuckwit and just let us take the cloak."

"Come on, we'll just squeeze in and all walk together," Harry shrugged, "There's no way I'm letting you leave with my cloak if I'm not there."

They were at an impasse. Sure, he could body bind them and drag Hermione away, but she'd just bitch-bitch-bitch until sex was out of the question…and who wanted to deal with that kind of thing, really?

"So YOUR plan, is that we all sorta SQUEEZE together and monkey walk over to my mom's room and watch the plan scheduled to begin half an hour ago unfold?"

Potter shrugged. "I guess."

"Oh, good, because nothing about THAT plan will go wrong!"

Silence.

"Let's do it," Weasley grinned.

Bloody fucking hell.


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: To those who have so helpfully let me know that in the books, Ron and Hermione have a crush on each other - Yes, I know. It's part of why I don't read the books. I don't believe in unchangeable characters. Liking someone at 12 does not in any way obligate you to marry them.

Hermione Malfoy, Chapter 15

Walking down a crowded hallway with four people squeezed into an invisibility cloak built for a child caused a lot more hip to hip squeezing than one might like.

At least that's what Draco found. He suspected Weasley was enjoying himself.

"Ronald, really, do you have to make that grunting noise?" Hermione scolded quietly.

Hah! Draco smirked. He wasn't alone.

"I'm walking sideways. It's not so easy."

"Actually, it is, fuckhead-"

They turned the corner and Hermione interrupted their fight, as always, "Is Neville looking at us oddly?"

Sure enough, there was Largebottom, alone in the hallway, goggling at Potter's foot as, step by step, it kept escaping the confines of the cloak.

"Eep!" Draco shrieked as a hand grabbed at his ass and Neville's eyes widened,

"Potter, if that's your hand, you're losing it."

"It's mine," Hermione chuckled.

"Oh," he grinned, "Well, then, carry on."

"Actually," she pinched the cloak just past his ass and lowered it slightly to cover Potter's troublesome, large ass feet and Draco repeated to himself, the guy mantra: Size doesn't matter.

Not that he had any concerns in that department, mind.

"I give him 5 seconds to faint," Draco smirked, watching Neville's eyes dart around nervously.

"Draco, that's mean-" Hermione chided, as though to make some sort of point.

"5-"

Neville licked his lips.

"4-"

Clearly sweating.

"3-"

He wiped his palms furiously on his robe.

"2-"

-looking wildly for a place to run.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Draco screamed.

Neville toppled.

"One," Draco stated triumphantly.

Harry leveled his gaze at Hermione, "So this is love..."

"Shut up, Harry," she muttered.

* * *

There was very little bickering after the 'Neville incident' as Hermione considered it. She liked to think it was out of deference to her that they all kept quiet.

Or in deference to the fact that any time one of the boys opened their mouth, she kicked them in the shin.

Hey, whatever worked.

It wasn't until they were right outside Narcissa Malfoy's apartments that it dawned on her an oh-so-tiny problem.

"How were you geniuses planning to get in?" Alarmingly, she and Draco seemed to be on the same wavelength.

"Knock?" Weasley suggested tentatively.

"Just hoping she'd step back far enough to let ALL of us in, unawares?" Malfoy asked.

"We could apparate-" Harry suggested.

"Yes, because it's worth getting splinched for-" Draco rolled his eyes.

"I haven't splinched anything!"

"First time for everything, fuckwit. Weasley might even lose his virginity."

Hermione could see the blood rising in Ron's face.

"Draco-"

"You're right," Draco laid his hand over his heart, "No one's that desperate. Unless..." he turned to Harry inquisitively.

"I swear I will beat the life out of you, Malfoy," Harry glared at him.

"Stop it!" Hermione warned, "I have an idea."

"I never like it when she says that..." Ron muttered.

"What was that?" Hermione pinched him.

"Owww! Nothing," he whined.

"That's right," she nodded.

* * *

It was grand when Hermione gave into her more violent side. She was passionate and physical...and, most importantly, a little sadistic, which boded well for the future.

And beating up on Weasley? Well...the swelling in his heart could only be pride. Any other swelling, he couldn't be blamed for, as her ass kept rubbing against him as they walked.

"Draco..." Hermione hissed.

"Your fault," he shrugged, pulling her against him.

She giggled.

"Oh, HELL no," Potter shook his head, "If you want to go at it on your own time - well, it's still pretty disgusting, but if you're going to shag right in front of us, I _will _puke on you. Just FYI."

"Merlin, Harry, you don't have to be so nasty about it," Hermione gave him a prim look. Little minx.

Potter and Weasley exchanged a look, "Right, then, we're separating you," Weasley stepped between Draco and Hermione and Potter stepped in next to him, effectively cutting off all contact between the married couple.

And, as it happened, making Weasley's ass back right into Draco's crotch.

Instantaneous mood kill, that.

* * *

_At the Broomfield:_

"No means no, Hermione," Draco shook his head.

Of all the things she'd never expected to come out of Draco Malfoy's mouth.

"It's a simple flight, Draco, really - if we all just smoosh together-"

"Uhhh, Hermione," Harry interjected, "I'm going to have to agree with Malfoy on this one."

"Let's take a moment to reflect upon this statement," Ron snickered.

Hermione turned to Ron hopefully, "So you're in, then?"

"Ohhh, no," he shook his head, backing away from her.

"It's simple, really. We can all smush together on one broom, keep the cloak over us and just fly through her window - what's the problem?"

"That would be the 'smushing' you mentioned," Harry sighed, "You see, Hermione, as males, we are not allowed to 'smush.'"

"But you smushed under the cloak..."

"Which we will never speak of," Draco interjected.

"Agreed," the boys nodded.

* * *

"There are limits, Hermione," Potter tried to explain.

"Basically, we of the heterosexual persuasion prefer not to be 'smushing' the jewels anywhere some other bloke's arse," Draco shrugged.

"How could you know anything about the heterosexual persuasion, Malfoy?" Weasley wanted to know.

"Awww, Weasley, are you making a gay joke? Don't you feel guilty? Like you're betraying your own people?"

"You're the only one who knows how that feels, Malfoy," Weasley glared at him and Draco felt the hit. Yes...he was the only one who betrayed his people. Apparently the fact that his people were murdering bastards wasn't going to be taken into account, though.

"Ron-" Hermione gasped.

"Sorry," he muttered.

"It's okay," said Draco, "I understand that he's very touchy about coming out of the closet-"

BOOM, Weasley hit him and the boys went tumbling to the ground, hitting and gouging at each other's eyes. It was immediately clear that Ron had never been in a fist fight in his life...which was a relief since Draco never had either. What was the point when you could simply hex them?

It hurt like hell, he discovered immediately and he fought like mad just to avoid taking another hit himself. But somehow, pain covered his body and his skin stretched tightly around him. The world outside got larger and larger until he recognized the now familiar feeling.

Fur.

Twice in an hour. Unfuckingbelievable.

* * *

"Aww, aren't they cute?" Harry laughed, eying the bouncing animals before them.

"Of course, they're bunnies, it's what they do."

"Uhhh, it's not all they do...they ARE both still male, right?"

"No promises," she shrugged, "Come on, grab Ron," she leaned over to pick up the white bunny, holding it out from her body just in case Draco was up to his old tricks. He gave her an insulted look, as though that were soooo a hour ago, and how could she think it of him?

Flopsy-Ron, meanwhile, relaxed very easily in Harry's arms. It was rather creepy.

* * *

Draco's plan of revenge was very simple. Wait for the right opening - bite hard - leap away and let the betraying bitch bleed.

All was going well until she started scraching behind his ears.

Now, wasn't that just lovely? He rubbed his head back against her, unmindful of the fact that she was climbing onto a a broom with Harry. Her grip on him seemed to tighten, but that was all right - he enjoyed her hands roaming over his now horrifyingly puffy little body.

And WHY was he always white? Yes, he realized he was blonde and it was true, he had more fun, but shouldn't a person's over all character be protrayed when transfigured? Shouldn't he be black - the ultimate color of badassness?

He snuggled into Hermione to ponder.

* * *

Maybe Draco realized he shouldn't struggle while on a broom or maybe he just liked her hands all over him. The latter seemed far more likely, but there were no rabbits lost mid flight and the foursome made it safely through Narcissa Malfoy's window to hear see her laughing with Pansy over what appeared to be one of the largest piles of junk food Hermione had ever seen.

"I thought they were getting high," Hermione frowned, "Not having snacks."

Harry sighed, "Just trust me."

Hermione didn't know what to think about the situation, but she quickly waved her wand, turning Draco and Ron back into humans. It didn't stop Ron from sniffing at Harry - but what ever had, really?

Draco looked at his hands and around the room and his gaze finally landed on Hermione. "My dear, you are so dead."

"I got us in, didn't I?" she muttered, he got into such a tizzy about being turned into animals. It was so tiresome.

"It's not her fault," Harry tried to step in.

"Oh, was it yours?" Draco seemed to like this concept and turned on Harry.

"Draco, shhh," Hermione tried to silence him before his mother, only ten feet away, heard the argument.

"Yeah, shut up, Malfoy," Ron threw in.

"Weren't you the fucknut that attacked me in the first place?"

"And I was beating your ass!"

"Really? Because your eye and your lip say different."

"Shut up!" Hermione hissed.

"Want to see it again?" Ron _lunged _at Draco who took a remarkably quick, almost fearful step back and Ron plunged to the ground, taking the cloak with him.

"What was THAT?" Narcissa Malfoy turned and her eyes lit up, "Sugar plum! You came back."

"Merlin, why?" Draco moaned under his breath.

"I'm sorry, how rude," his mother laughed and held out her joint, "Did you want any?"

Right. Well... This could be a setback.

To Be Continued...


	16. Chapter 16

DISCLAIMER: This chapter contains drug-use. Neither myself, JK Rowlingthough you have to wonder what she's smoking to ship R/Hr, seriously, or Gumboot Mafia encourage the use of mood altering substances. Except Ritalin, which is fun. Kidding, never used it. Not as cool when you have a prescription, anyways. Anyway, if you should choose to use drugs, it's not my fault. It is particularly dangerous to those who are pregnant, about to operate a motorized vehicle or already retarded - so don't be a dumbass. Thank you and enjoy the story.

Hermione Malfoy, Chapter Sixteen

"Pardon?" Hermione gaped at her mother-in-law, who she could have _sworn _just offered her son an illegal substance.

Draco stood still for a second and shrugged, "Sure, why not?"

"Draco!"

"What?" he took the joint from his mother's fingers and inhaled deeply. "If I have to be here, I can at least be stoned enough to appreciate it."

"That's - That's - marajuana..." she finished lamely.

"No shit, Granger," Pansy shook her head and Draco exhaled.

"She's a Malfoy now," he corrected with a cough, "That's strong," he nodded to the Parkinson whore in approval and the little bitch preened.

"You passing or what, Malfoy?" Harry asked, holding out his hand.

"In a second," Draco inhaled again.

"Harry! Do you know what that will do to you!" Hermione smacked his hand away from what had to be like smoking cow shit if the smell was any indication.

"Oh dear," Narcissa muttered.

"Yes, Hermione," Harry sighed, "I'm aware of all possible side effects - and aren't you supposed to be nagging your husband? Honestly."

Draco passed him the joint and he took it gratefully.

"Draco! You can't just let Harry-"

"He's not your pet, love, he can smoke if he wants-"

And apparently, Harry did, for he didn't seem inclined to pass the joint further.

"Hermione, darling, you're -," Narcissa wrang her hands in concern and turned to her son, "Draco, you haven't married a prude, have you? Oh dear, I _had _hoped this wouldn't happen."

"You hoped we wouldn't get high as a family?" Hermione rolled her eyes.

Narcissa and Pansy's eyes met and they burst into laughter.

The only thing Hermione could be totally sure of was the fact that nothing she had said was the least bit funny. Well, maybe a bit funny. She wasn't an entirely witless person, after all, but it was light titter-funny or short snort-funny. Not grab your stomach and roll on the ground unable to breathe-funny as they seemed to find it.

"You are both very clearly high."

"It's true," Narcissa nodded, wiping tears from her eyes.

"It's _so_ fucking true," Parkinson agreed, bursting into laughter, "Cause that so - wasn't - funny."

Hermione huffed. Honestly, she was getting flak from the biggest slut in their class? She hadn't even been _trying _to be funny.

"How baked are we?" Narcissa held her hand up and stared at it calmly for a moment and dissolved into laughter.

"Is your hand, like, _so _big?" Hermione snitted.

"Draco, make her stop - I can't breathe," Narcissa begged.

* * *

Draco chuckled and found Hermione's glare pinning him to the wall.

"_What_ is so funny about this, Draco?" she tapped her foot and Parkinson fell off her chair.

He decided not to go into the time that he got baked and laughed at the same light fixture for almost an hour. In fairness, it had looked quite phallic at the time. "Nothing, love, you're just so cute," he pulled her against him.

"Draco, breath," she coughed, "Two steps back."

"Hermione," he whined. How _embarassing. _Draco muttered a spell of marvelous minty freshness and pulled her back against him. "Better?"

"Draco, I don't think you ought to be doing this - we had a _plan,_" she hissed.

"And the second someone comes in to expel us, we'll dive under the invisibility cloak."

Hermione frowned, "Aren't you supposed to be slurring or something?"

"No, no common misconception," Draco shook his head, trying to form the words to explain, "See, I'm not drunk. Alcohol equals slurring. Pot equals..."

"Massive Idiocy?"

"No," he shook his head and then chuckled, "Well, sometimes. You know what you look like?"

"This can't end well," Harry giggled and the string of possibilities flowed through Draco's head. Each more hilarious than the last.

"No, stop, Potter, it's not funny," he shook his head, trying not to laugh, "A chipmunk! See? Granger, your cute little chipmunk teeth," he tapped on them.

She smacked his hand away. "I look like a rodent?"

"No, chip-munk," he pronounced it for her helpfully.

Hermione did not look at all pleased with the compliment. Bit of a picky wench, that one.

* * *

A buck toothed rat, was basically what he was calling her. Hermione did not at all appreciate Malfoy calling attention to her teeth.

She blamed it all on the affects of the demon-drug he was smoking.

"Mmmm," Harry sighed as he breathed in deeply.

"Harry, I can't believe you," Hermione shook her head, "I can't believe you would choose now, of all times, to start smoking pot, what are you thinking?"

"_Start?_" Draco gaped at her, "Potter's like, best friends with the ganja, Hermione. Why do you think everyone calls him Pothead?"

In truth, she _had _found it a somewhat witless... "You're the only one who calls him that."

"Oh," Draco frowned, "Well, where do you think I got it?"

"It's true, you always were somewhat on the nose with your insults."

"Says the person who called me ferret-boy for the last four years."

"Ferret-boy," Harry chuckled and Draco rolled his eyes.

Hermione heard giggling very close to her and the joint disappeared from Harry's hand. _Ron_. Hermione foot flew into air and CRUNCHED into his invisible shin.

Smoke WHOOSHED into Hermione's face and she started coughing spasmodically.

The cloak slipped from Ron's head when he grabbed his shin and started bouncing and screaming, but it caught around his hands - so no one could actually SEE his hands or his injured leg, but his wailing left them all to believe it was quite painful.

It was actually marvelously entertaining watching half of Ron's body bounce up and down and Hermione started cackling with the rest of the group.

"You're such a fucking moron, Weasley," her husband muttered and Hermione laughed harder.

Harry tried to breathe and focused on Hermione, "Seriously? If Hermione thinks this is funny, I can't be half as stoned as I thought."

* * *

Draco's eyes narrowed as he studied his wife, laughing helplessly and occasionally choking. There was something off. Sure, it could be that she found it hilarious - given that it was, in fact, _always _hilarious to watch poor people hopping around in abject misery...but it didn't seem like her type of humor, alas. And he couldn't help but be a little offended that she found _his _breath repulsive, but didn't seem to have the slightest problem with Weasley's...

It clicked.

"She's high too," Harry spoke slowly as it dawned on him as well, "She breathed it in... Damn, this shit _is _strong," he nodded to Pansy in approval.

"Cheers, love," she winked back at him.

Draco rolled his eyes. Didn't take long for her to find a new target, apparently.

"Wait? What did you say?" Hermione frowned at Harry.

"First timers," Narcissa sighed and tilted a bag of chips toward her daughter-in-law, "Care for a few?"

"Sure," Hermione reached her hand into the bag and pulled out a handful of chips, popping them into her mouth one after another and with increasing delight, "Hey-wha-kind-er-zeese?" she snatched another handful and everyone smirked.

"Wha..?" she glared at them all, still chewing.

"Welcome to the joys of pot, Granger," Pansy snickered, "And give that back," she grabbed the bag from Hermione's hand and the Head Girl frowned.

"Parkinson, it's Malfoy. Merlin. Speaking of which - nice going, Weasley, if anyone's going to manipulate my wife into smoking pot, it should be me," Draco pouted.

"Fuck off, Malfoy," Weasley finally let go of his leg and began to test it out. "Not the only thing I gave her before you..."

"Headaches? Nausea?"

* * *

The boys were bickering as always, but it didn't seem to matter overmuch. What was irritating was the way Pansy kept dangling the chips in front of her, snatching them back and giggling.

Hermione was going to kill that bitch.

"For god's sake," Narcissa muttered, "Hermione, would you like some of these chips?" her mother-in-law handed her a different bag and Hermione eyed them dubiously.

"I liked that kind..."

"These will be just as good," Narcissa assured her.

It seemed unlikely, but Hermione decided to give them a try and while they were different, she had never tasted anything so saturated with flavor. "Wha-are-zeese?"

"Chex mix."

_Duh. _

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Yeah, I know, but are they magic?" She crammed a bunch in her mouth.

"Nope."

"Nuh-uh!" she stuffed more in her mouth, "They-r-sooo-no-real"

"Attractive," Narcissa grimaced. "I'm losing my buzz," she looked around, "Hello, there, red-headed fellow? If you could pass it my way?"

Ron took a break from where he was about to go after Malfoy to hand over the joint.

"Anyway," Narcissa took a deep drag, "How are you enjoying married life?"

Hermione laughed. "Yes, let's talk about my marriage to your son. Not awkward," she snickered. "You know, I don't know what they're going on about, I didn't breathe any of that in, I feel totally normal."

"Right, Granger, you're normally nice and relaxed like this," Pansy broke into the conversation and snickered.

"That's..." Hermione frowned at Pansy, "That's not at all nice!"

A loud guffaw broke out behind them and the women turned to Harry, helping himself to chips and chuckling. "Oh, don't mind me."

"I didn't, until you spoke," Hermione chuckled at herself and looked at Pansy and Narcissa expectantly and they merely turned to Harry.

Hermione assumed that they didn't understand her clever word play, being that they were high, and let it slide.

"So...Harry," Pansy smiled, "You having a good time?"

"Could be better," he slid into the seat beside her.

"Really..." she played ran her fingers along his thigh, "Do tell."

"It's a secret," he smiled.

"Then whisper," she winked at him.

Hermione's mouth dropped open, "Harry, you're FLIRTING with Pansy Parkinson!" she yelled.

Everyone in the room stopped what they were doing to give her a 'My aren't we slow tonight' look. Which, honestly, wasn't much of a surprise except from Draco, who had, up until that point, been holding Ron in a choke-hold and hadn't seemed ready to end it.

"So?" Pansy snapped, "You took my man, I'll take yours."

* * *

There was no good place to go from here and Draco dropped Ron to the floor in favor of stepping into any fights the girls chose to start over him. Well, after he observed for awhile, of course. One didn't get a quality chick fight every day...

"Draco was never yours except for like, fifteen minutes in 4th grade," Hermione rolled her eyes.

"That's right," Draco agreed, "Well, wait, I lasted longer than fifteen minutes."

Hermione glared at him and Potter didn't appear to believe him.

"Right, not the point, love, what were you saying?"

"She was interfering, as always," Pansy muttered.

"Now girls," Narcissa sighed, "I'm sure you're both perfectly lovely, but there is only one woman that will ever truly capture Draco's heart-"

"Oh no," Draco looked for a place to hide. "Mother, it's the pot talking. Whatever you're going to say? Forget it."

"Awww, Draco, am I embarrassing you, love?" she chuckled.

"If you have to _ask _then assume _yes."_

This was beginning to kill his buzz.

"Oh, sweetie," Hermione rubbed his hand, "You'll be okay," she nuzzled against his side.

Draco looked down at her and she smiled up at him. Huh. Humiliation comfort ? It was an equation he'd have to explore... He looked around for a convenient corner.

* * *

Hermione wasn't surprised or embarrassed when Draco dragged her to the corner and began to smother her with kisses. She liked it, in fact. Perhaps she had been just _slightly _affected by Ron's dragon breath...

There was something odd about the whole situation, though and she pulled away from the kiss. "You know what's weird?"

"Tell me later..."

"No, seriously, it's like we're making out-" she tried to explain.

"Not 'like'we ARE making out..."

"Nooo, but like, we're making out here, but it feels like my mouth is like – over HERE," she took a step to her side, "Weird, right?"

"Not really – you're baked, now kiss me."

He pushed her back against the wall and Hermione shrugged off the oddness and melted into the feel of his lips and the taste of his mouth.

It was at that moment that the door opened.

Draco and Hermione's eyes flew to the door, where Madame Hooch and Dumbledore stood at the door...and everyone else was mysteriously absent.

Madame Hooch sniffed the air and glared at the couple. "I thought better of you two, REALLY. You know the rules, how could you let this happen?"

Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy exchanged grim looks. There was really nothing else to do about the situation.

They would simply have to murder Pansy Parkinson.


	17. Chapter 17

A/N 1: A lot of interesting responses to the last chapter, most of which I will ignore because it's been so long I forgot who said what.

A/N 2: Stop plagiarizing me. I know this doesn't apply to all of you, but it's more than you'd think, so cut it out. THANKS!

A/N 3: The tone on this is a little different than pretty much every other chapter, but I hope you guys enjoy it anyway.

Hermione Malfoy, Chapter Seventeen

The door to their common room closed softly and Hermione made no attempt to speak to him. Draco waited. She closed her eyes and leaned against the door. Not really the look of a woman ready to discuss the events of the evening. She banged her head against the door.

He wondered if he should sit down or something.

"So," she pushed away from the door and Draco jumped, "What should we do with the rest of our year now that we face expulsion? Perhaps a nice little get-away? Second honeymoon?" she sneered.

"We're not going to be expelled," Draco plopped himself onto the couch, "There's a more pressing issue-"

"Indeed? Losing our badges, perhaps?" she started pacing.

"Dealing with Parkinson," Draco corrected.

Hermione hesitated, "Yes, well, we'll get to that in a second. Draco, how could you just smoke pot like that, right then, when it was so important for us to keep our heads?"

The fact that her accusation wasn't entirely off base only made it more annoying. "Oh, come on, Granger, it wasn't the pot that made us lose track of what was going on! We shouldn't have even left our room with this still between us."

"Wh- What are you talking about?" she asked.

He flew off the couch and stalked toward her. She was trying to blame this whole thing on him and it wasn't going to happen. Hermione immediately leaped behind a table to avoid him.

"Okay, I don't need a demonstration!"

But she did. Her eyes were on fire and whether she knew it or not, she was inviting him to show her, in graphic detail, exactly what he meant by that comment.

Draco didn't bother with magic, he just tossed the table on its side to get to her. It was a time-tested move he'd used on other women, guaranteed to up his fuckability in less than five seconds. And it was working. Her eyes darkened, she drew in her breath sharply... and dove for _Hogwarts: A History_ as it smashed into the floor.

There were no words. Just a dark, impending doom as he took the only course open to him at the very moment: He ran. Straight to his room, slammed the door, dove under his bed and repeated every charm he knew of to keep the door securely locked.

A braver man would have stayed to get his balls hexed off.

Draco Malfoy had better priorities.

* * *

The door to the Griffindor common room hit the wall and and everyone fifth year and under went scurrying to their rooms. Ron Weasley didn't move fast enough and found himself at the wrong end of Hermione's wand.

"Umm...hi."

"Yes," she glared at him, "High was what I was wanting to discuss with you."

All remaining Griffindors managed to escape the room without bothering to help him out. Hopefully one of them was headed for Harry because Ron wasn't entirely sure the look in Hermione's eyes was a sign of stability.

"Are you still on it?" he asked curiously.

"Ron! I had less than you, how would I still be affected?" she looked so annoyed about such a simple question. Merlin, didn't have to chop his head off about it. "You really are a fuckwit sometimes, you know."

He held up a hand, "If this is about your evil git of a husband, you can just move along back to Head Girl territory because-"

"I won't HAVE a 'Head Girl' territory soon, thanks to you," she smacked his hand with her wand and looked ready to go over the edge.

"You guys got caught!" Ron's mouth dropped.

"Of course we did, you were there!"

"Nuh-uh," Ron shook his head mutinously. She may be technically more intelligent than he was, but he knew where he was, when, thank you very much.

"Where were you then?"

He stopped, baffled... "I don't know."

"Hermione, what are you doing?" a voice came from the stairs.

"Harry, thank Merlin. She's off her sodding rocker!"

"Don't interfere, Harry, I'll have to kill you as well," Hermione didn't even look toward the door.

"That's fair," Harry shrugged and took a seat, making absolutely no move for his wand.

"Harry," Ron tried to get his friend's attention.

"Oh come on, Ron, you got her high without permission-"

"She KICKED me, it's not like I was trying to get her to loosen up for the first time in her life."

"Wand to your throat, fuckwit," Hermione reminded him.

"This is ridiculous, Hermione, if you're going to blame anyone, how about your husband? Or his mother? Or that Parkinson slut?"

"She's not a slut," Harry muttered.

At least THAT got Hermione's attention as she and Ron gaped at Harry.

"What? It's not like either one of you actually know anything about her sexual practices!"

"I know she practices her slag attack on my husband every few seconds, what else do I need to know?"

"Really?" Harry looked surprised, "She could do so much better."

"WHAT?" Hermione goggled at Harry, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Harry gave Ron a meaningful look and nodded his head toward Hermione. Ron wasn't sure totally what Harry was on about and wasn't sure he didn't back Hermione on this one. Malfoy was an evil git and all, but Pansy Parkinson wasn't really any kind of prize, at least Malfoy-

"Ron! Bloody hell!"

"What? You can go ahead and insult Malfoy all you want, I couldn't give a shit, but really, saying something like that to her face is kind of rude, right, 'Mione? Back me up."

"Quite right!" Hermione agreed.

Harry shook his head, "Oh, hey Ginny!" he directed the greeting behind her head and Ron turned to see...nothing. What? "Expelliarmus!" Harry knocked the wand from Hermione's hand and glared at Ron like he was trying to make some kind of point.

"About bloody time, Harry, you couldn't do that before?"

"Ron. You sodding moron, you think I was distracting her for fun?"

"What?" Ron blinked. Oh. "Ummm...oops?"

* * *

Shouts from the common room were beginning to interrupt her post-coital bliss and Ginny pulled out of Blaise's arms reluctantly.

"Noo, come back," he pouted. And what an attractive 'he' Blaise made, Ginny couldn't help but notice.

"Maybe for a second," Ginny slid her leg over his body to straddle him and leaned down to kiss him.

"Hey, I just wanted to cuddle," Blaise pulled back, "But whatever you want, baby..."

Ginny smiled.

"Sodding hell, Hermione!" Ron's came up through the wall. Ugh.

"I want to be able to shag in peace without listening to my brother yell at his friends," Ginny was pulling on her clothes, "C'mon, let's go see what the drama is."

"Merlin, here it comes," Blaise winced and followed to the common room, where it looked like Malfoy's bride was actually biting the wand out of Ron's hand. He chuckled.

Every eye swung to him. "Oh, no, don't mind us."

"Hey, where's Draco, Mrs. Malfoy?" Ginny smirked, "Shouldn't he be in on this...fun?"

"Not really. We're getting a divorce."

* * *

"What?" Harry and Ron looked elated.

Hermione hadn't really intended to say that aloud. It was actually a little shocking how much the idea pained her. She didn't actually believe in divorce for the most part, of course, but surely what she'd just suggested - spewed out thoughtlessly, really, wasn't even a real divorce, just a speeding up of their initial plan, really.

After all, what with Dumbledore on the way to expelling them, she wasn't feeling particularly inclined to go along his stupid little plan with that...book hating coward.

She burst into tears.

"Oh no, honey, what happened?" Ginny sat down next to Hermione and took her hand.

"What's the big deal?" Ron looked baffled, "It's just Malfoy. You're finally rid of him, this is great!"

"He's my husband you fucking moron!" Hermione screamed at him. "Get the hell out of here!" She looked around for things to hurl at him.

Ron looked stunned, "You have your own common room - you leave! You're the one that said you wanted a divorce. Merlin, if you don't mean it, don't say it."

"She's just a little overly emotional," a newcomer stepped into the room. "What with you gits ruining the evening and getting her expelled and all-"

"Draco?" Hermione wiped her eyes as her husband walked over to her. "You really think we'll be expelled?"

"You got her expelled?" Ginny glared at Ron.

"Why does everyone constantly blame me for everything?" Ron huffed.

"Yes, it's a wonder," Harry muttered under his breath.

"Thanks, Harry, I'm not bloody deaf, you know."

Ginny opened her mouth.

"Or dumb, either, Gin, I know what you're thinking!"

Draco ignored the rabble and looked right at her, "You want to get some sleep? They'll probably be talking to us in the morning."

The idea was so lovely, she almost wanted to curl up right where she was and just get out of this whole terrible situation. No expulsion, disappointment. Her books all in perfect shape.

Tears slipped down her cheeks again and Draco hauled her to her feet. "Let's go, love."

She leaned against him for support as he walked her back to their common room. She was done with thinking for the night and just wanted him to do it for her. Absently, she realized that his hands were slipping underneath her clothes, but it didn't matter. Everything she'd worked for was about to disappear. Holding out her virginity was really the least of her worries.

Article, by article, her clothes hit the floor and Hermione wrapped her arms around Draco's neck, prepared to surrender to whatever he had in mind.

"What are you doing?"

"What do you want me to be doing?" she kissed him and he pulled back immediately.

"You...I thought, you wanted to sleep?" he swallowed.

"Sounds good," she crawled onto the bed. "You coming?"

* * *

His intention from the second he brought her into the room was to get her out of her clothes, into some PJs and straight to sleep.

Not being a real directions oriented kinda guy, however, Draco hit a detour. Or, scenic route, as it happened.

The whole evening it had been clear to him that their relationship was all but over. If they were expelled, well, Dumbledore and his great and noble plan could sod the fuck off because they had an unspoken deal. Even if they weren't, there was the matter of her goddamn book.

"You're the one who said you wanted a divorce!" replayed in his head and it was shocked by the betrayal of it.

But here she was, inviting him into her bed.

The fact that she was overtired and maybe out of her head at this point wasn't lost on him. But neither was the idea that this may be his last chance, their last chance, even.

Suddenly he was on the bed with her and she smiled as she leaned in to kiss her. Passion flared between them as always and he welcomed it to his team as something to get what he wanted, to keep her by his side because he was beginning to realize that divorce wasn't something he was interested in.

* * *

He was like a whirlwind, overwhelming her with his lips, his tongue and his body until she almost forgot to move, just savor every exquisite touch he gave her. But she did, she touched him back and tried to echo his movements without being jealous of the practice it must have taken to learn them.

Hermione opened her body to him and he worshiped it like she'd known he would, like she'd pictured it in her head a thousand times, but in such a real, perfect way she just wanted to watch him forever.

She didn't think about the fact that she'd have to let him go, she wanted to draw him in and make it last.

* * *

The moment he slid into her body he knew he wouldn't last. It had been far too long for him and the sweetness of her passion and the innocence of her body overwhelmed him with a pleasure he hadn't been aware existed.

"Beautiful," he murmured against her and tried to hold himself back.

* * *

His hands moved everywhere on her body and finally settled in between their bodies and she gasped, arching into him more strongly as he finally broke free of his own control and went wild.

Light dazzled brilliantly around her in a crescendo with him and then slowly their hearts began to slow as sleep took over.

* * *

Draco woke up to a flurry of activity as his wife ran around frantically. "What's wrong?" he frowned.

"Dumbledore wants to see us!" she pulled him out of bed and went back to her attempt at dressing. "God, what's WRONG with this robe?"

He waved his wand and they were both dressed.

"Right, well, let's go..." she charged off but he caught her hand and dragged her back against his body.

"You forgot something," he smiled and she looked around in alarm until he lifted her chin and kissed her lips softly.

"Oh," she swallowed and pulled away, "I don't think we better be doing that now...this meeting could change everything."

"True enough," he agreed, "Let's go, Mrs. Malfoy."

"Not for long," she whispered.

* * *

Hermione almost apologized for her fatalistic attitude, but it didn't appear he'd heard her comment. That, or he didn't care.

She chose to believe he didn't hear it and pondered their fate as they marched over to Dumbledore's office.

As the old wizard guided them into his office and offered them the very same chairs they had ironed out the details of their "courtship" not so very long ago, Hermione couldn't help but notice how tired their Head Master looked and wondered if he'd been up half the night arguing about their future. Or then again, maybe he was just old and she shouldn't read into it. Maybe she was the only person that cared.

"Our facility was unable to reach a decision in regards to your situation, I'm afraid, children, which means the decision over your future is up to the board. The quarter ends in two weeks and during the break, they will meet to discuss this topic. It pains me very much that it has come to this. For the time being, there will be a suspension of your Head Titles until this matter is sorted out. You may, of course, stay in the rooms we have provided..."

"No," Hermione shook her head, "I'd rather return to Gryffindor, if I have any choice in the matter."

"What?" Draco shook his head, "No, why would you want to go back and share a room when you could be in our suites that are a billion times nicer?"

"Can we talk about this later?" she muttered.

"No, we'll talk about this now, excuse us Professor," he pulled her out the door with him and Hermione wanted to die of embarrassment.

* * *

"What the hell, Granger?"

"I just don't like being reminded of what I'm going to lose, I don't want it weighing on me every day like that!"

"Merlin, it's just a room," he couldn't be more exasperated with her. How were they supposed to have sex if they couldn't sleep in the same room?

"No...not just the room. Do you get what I'm saying?"

And that's when it hit him. All of her comments came at him at once and clobbered mercilessly at his heart.

"Yeah, I get it," Draco nodded and he walked away.

He spent the next two weeks avoiding her and really anyone that knew her. Really, he should have been concentrating on figuring out how the hell Parkinson managed to disappear, but he couldn't bring himself to care. She left school, she polyjuiced someone...Potter transfigured her into a mutton chop.

Blah. It all involved too much thinking. A practice he was now solidly against.

Besides, he had more pressing matters to deal with now that the quarter break was coming up so quickly. His darling mother had refused to let him spend his vacation in any of the Malfoy family homes. And while he WAS technically the head of the household and could have her thrown out, it would take a great deal of litigation...all of which would take longer than the actual break lasted.

Draco made the mistake of mentioning this problem to Blaise Zabini in a moment of weakness or possibly drunkenness. Well, likely both, but that was the discussion that landed him where he was two weeks after 'The Incident' -

At the train station, bitching Parkinson out in his head while waiting for the in-laws he'd never met with his estranged fake wife.

It was bloody fucking brilliant.

"Umm, Draco," Hermione tried to get his attention as the people he could only assume were her parents approached him, "There's something you should know."

"I know they're muggles, Hermione, I'm not totally daft."

"Right, but they don't know."

"Don't know what?"

She cleared her throat, "I never told them we got married."

Well, now. Draco smiled for the first time in weeks. This could be entertaining.

To be Continued...


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all respective people/places/things belong to J.K. Rowling. Or so I'm told, being that I still haven't read the books.

A/N: Okay, I've done extensive research on the names of Hermione's parents – that is to say, I googled it and asked people. Turns out they have no official names and before people start bitching that her mom is mostly called Jane... I'm not calling her Jane. I'm calling them Robert and Helen. So, other than the three people that mention this only because I said not to – I'm hoping the rest of you can accept the decision.

A/N #2: Please ignore the first A/N if, like any normal person, you couldn't care less and just want to get on with it.

A/N #3: Now I'm just stalling to see how many you'll read.

A/N #4: AHAHAHA! Just kidding, over giddy, here we go...

Hermione Malfoy, Chapter Eighteen

by scarlet (superscar)

What she could have possibly been thinking to let Draco Fucking Malfoy into the same breathing space as her _parents, _Hermione really couldn't say. In fact, she couldn't even think what moment of weakness had led her to ask Draco to stay with her. How had that gone again?

Oh right. She had ignored any good sense that she'd been born with and politely asked if he wanted to go home with her for the break. Draco told her to sod off.

At which point she'd gone ballistic and pretty much forced him.

Brilliant moment on her part.

Very, _very _belatedly, she remembered a few things about her situation that she hadn't been fully focusing on:

A) Her parents hadn't the foggiest clue that she was married at all, not to mention married to Draco Malfoy, a wizard whose name had not been brought up favorably in the past.

B) The aforementioned Ferret Faced git was unaware of situation A, but because of situation

C) Draco Malfoy's heart pumped liquid evil...

It was unlikely that any of these situations would resolve themselves, at least not in a positive light. So she resorted to a tactic that she wouldn't normally consider.

"Draco, _please _don't say anything," Hermione begged.

"Moi?" Draco eyed her innocently.

She was so buggered.

XXX

"Hermione, over here!"

Draco turned to see a middle aged couple approaching Hermione and couldn't be more excited to meet his in-laws. What would he say? How would he do it? The situation was too fucking beautiful to waste on poor diction. Merlin, if he had a week to plan _maybe _he could come up with something clever enough to be worthy of that giddy feeling inside him.

But alas, all he had was the present.

"_Please _Malfoy, don't be the utter prat I know you want to be right now."

"I'm willing to consider sexual favors in exchange," he gave her what he considered an extremely magnanimous offer. She would, of course, refuse...but he gave her a-

"Sure, what kind?" Hermione asked.

Draco's mouth dropped. _What? _ His mind went blank. "What did you have in mind?"

"Nothing, you pervert," Hermione smacked him, "Merlin, what the hell is wrong with you?"

"Well, my father was a murdering Death Eater and my mother's an overprotective psychopath. Start adding," Draco shrugged.

Hermione gave him a look that almost resembled pity and he was instantly annoyed with her.

"Gods, you're no fun anymore, I liked it better when we were shagging."

"Shhhhh," she hushed him as her parents got within hearing distance. "Mum! Dad! Hi!"

"Hermione! Welcome home!" her mother enveloped her in a hug.

"And you must be the friend she mentioned bringing back with her," Hermione's father offered his hand to Draco. "Robert Granger, this is my wife Helen."

"Draco Malfoy."

Harold stilled and it was obvious that he recognized the name. Better still, the dawning horror in his eyes made Draco's heart positively pound with anticipation for the next piece of news he got to deliver...

"He's my husband," Hermione beat him to the punch and Draco wanted to scream at her. She ruined it! On _purpose!_ The sheer disappointment of the moment was almost painful. How could she do this to him? After all they'd meant to each other? Merlin, his eyes were burning.

His in-laws looked between them in shock. "Wait...you got married?"

Considering how smart Hermione was, he'd expected her parents to be a little quicker on the uptake.

"That we did," Draco smiled, struck with inspiration "and frankly, I was hurt that you would let something silly like my parentage stop you from being there for your daughter on our wedding day."

"Draco-" Hermione looked ready to flay him, a sure sign he was on the right track.

"No, Hermione, I know you said they'd apologized, and it was nice enough of them to invite us back to their home, but I'm going to need to hear it myself," he sniffed.

Silence. Draco waited, letting his eyes well with tears.

Helen was the first to speak and glared at her daughter, "Why Hermione Jane Granger, what on EARTH have you been telling this nice young man about us? Draco, was it?" she drew him into a massive bear hug, "Welcome to the family! I am so sorry about this horrid miscommunication with our daughter. Really, Hermione, I couldn't be more disappointed in you. The very idea we would hold something so silly against him... I apologize again, Draco, that was not the case _at all. _Now, what do you have to say for yourself, young lady?"

All eyes turned to Hermione and Draco smiled.

Perfect.

XXX

And here she thought breaking the news _herself_ would be the better way to go. Take away his power, so to speak. But no, he bounced back and somehow made the whole thing _her _fault! Typical.

"Mum, let's just get out of here now and I'll explain everything," she led her parents out of the train station and her mind whirred feverishly with possible explanations. The truth: That she'd been talked into a sham marriage by a man she greatly respected and was now on the verge of expulsion and divorce was the last thing Hermione wanted known. It was out of the question.

But what lie would mollify her parents and more importantly, really stick it to her darling hubby?

She was coming up blank so far.

XXX

"Gods, could you stop with that thing for one _second_, Ron?" Ginny snatched the quaffle he kept banging against her wall.

"Right, if you weren't so busy with _Blaise _I doubt you'd care."

"Harry," Ginny begged, "Please, please stupify him for me. Mum said if I did it again, I couldn't have Blaise spend the night."

"Gin, you can't have your boyf- erm... close personal friend spend the night! That's so unfair!"

"What Mum doesn't _know _won't hurt her, _will it_, Ronald?" Ginny hissed.

"Don't you think she'll notice your chum will only be here every other day?"

"Well, if she does, I'll know precisely who to blame, won't I?"

"Guys, you're seriously giving me a headache," Harry buried his face under a pillow.

"You're giving yourself a headache about 'Mione, Harry, don't drag us into it," Ron hushed him.

"What about Hermione?" Ginny wanted to know and Blaise emerged from her room to hear the answer.

"You know, the expulsion. Harry thinks we should all be expelled if they are. Us, for the pot, you guys for screwing in the dorm," Ron made a face.

"At least some of us are getting some," Blaise shrugged.

"Thanks for that," Ron shivered, "Really. We were all begging for that image."

"Fine with me," Harry smiled. "In fact...don't mind us."

"So how do you think Draco is getting along with the Grangers?" Ginny kicked her brother off his bed and pulled her significant other down to cuddle with her.

"Gross, you're contaminating my sheets, Gin, what the hell?"

"I'm sure you did something to deserve it," she shrugged.

"He got Hermione high," Harry offered helpfully.

"You dick!" Ginny punched Ron.

"Merlin," Ron hid on Harry's side of the room.

"Why didn't you tell someone it was your fault? She might get expelled!" Ginny glared at her brother.

Ron shook his head, "It isn't my fault! She was the one that kicked me and she was barely even high, it lasted what, five minutes? And I don't know how she got in trouble in the first place, it's not like she got caught."

Blaise gave him a weird look, "Umm, actually that's exactly what happened and I wasn't even there to see it, what the hell is wrong with you?"

"Harry, tell them what really happened," Ron sighed, "He was there too."

Ginny and Blaise turned to Harry expectantly and he looked extremely uncomfortable.

"Well, you know, it happened kind of...like Blaise said."

Ron's mouth dropped, "Harry! Why are you just agreeing with that Slytherin?"

"Because she- Is it okay for me to say she?" he turned to Blaise.

"Today, yes. Tomorrow, no," Blaise winked and Harry turned away from her quickly.

"Anyway," he turned back to Ron, "Because she's right. You don't remember that?"

"What's to remember? We got baked and took off."

Ginny looked worried, "Why doesn't he remember? Pot doesn't affect memory, does it?"

"Not without a whole lot more," Blaise actually seemed concerned as well. About Ron. It was unnatural.

"Shhh..." Harry got everyone's attention, "I think I know what happened."

XXX

"So tell us _all _about the wedding," Mrs. Granger told them the second they got into the car. "You're not..." she glanced not so subtly toward Hermione's midsection.

"_No_," Hermione glared at her mother, she got this question way too often.

"Not that we know of, anyway," Draco patted her hand affectionately.

"So what made you want to get married so quickly? Why not wait a few years?" her father asked.

Hermione had never come up with a particularly good reason and hoped Draco had one.

"Well, Sir, after the war," Draco interlocked their fingers, as though this story was hard for him to tell and Hermione braced herself for the utter horse shite that was to spew forth.

"Go on, Son," her mother encouraged.

"After the war, I told myself that I would stop wasting time. I didn't want to wait some arbitrary amount of time for everyone _else _to think Hermione and I were ready to be married. We wanted our life together to start as soon as possible."

"Awww," her mother melted and Hermione started to realize Draco was stroking her hand with his thumb. "Hermione, why wouldn't you tell us you were marrying such a romantic young man?"

"That's an answer I'd like to hear as well," Draco threw her a wounded look, as though he was truly offended she'd kept their fake matrimony to herself.

"I was just scared," Hermione shrugged. It was the best she could do on short notice, "Not of how you'd react initially, but I knew you'd talk to the Weasley's eventually and I just didn't want their opinions to color what you thought of our marriage. I just wanted to stay in our little...love bubble," she grimaced. Merlin, that was corny as hell.

"I like our _love bubble _too," Draco winked suggestively.

"Oh, John, remember when we were like that?" her mother sighed.

"We're _still _like that, of course, darling," her parents joined hands and Hermione was absolutely certain she'd blow chunks.

"Mum, Dad, please – I really might be ill," her stomach rolled with the images.

"Oh, Hermione, you're a married woman now," her mum scolded, "you know how these things are."

"Trust me, she does," Draco threw in.

"Pull over," she begged.

"Oh, darling, are you quite sure you're not expecting?"

It was too much.

Everything in her stomach surged without bound and tore out of her like a Cruciatus Curse.

Unfortunately, her nervousness in taking Draco home with her had resulted in her eating everything that appeared before her that morning, most all of which had looked better the first time around.

Hermione almost puked again at the sight of it, all over Draco's lap.

"I'm so sorry, I..." she couldn't be more mortified. Her eyes lifted to his face, for the first time taking in the expression of the aristocratic wizard, covered in filth and not allowed to _scourgify _himself of it. "...I actually feel much better now."

She smiled.

XXX

_This _hellacious hairball was the one that, not two weeks ago, he'd wanted to stay married to? That he, Merlin, did he _still_ want to? Fuck, Draco hoped not.

She was a vicious, vicious monster just spoiling to dirty him up in the most inconceivable ways. Was it not enough that his bloodline was forever tainted by their marriage. Draco pushed aside the reminder that blood purity was total bollocks, he was on a roll that was not to be messed with. Big toothed, mudblooded, puke faced, big haired, bossy brained, snubbed nosed, know-it-all, stupid, whiny, red-haired...

At some point he'd actually moved on to Weasley and Draco couldn't really remember where, so he started over with his complaints as he cleaned, yes _he_ Draco Malfoy, cleaned his own shirt. They were animals, these muggles.

Somehow, in his short marriage, he had allowed his wife to abuse him terribly, he'd discovered.

First off, she hardly ever gave it up. Sure, one night. But since then? Nothing. Before then? Teasing at best.

Second, she dragged him into the most annoying scenarios with her bollocks for brains friends.

Third, she had zero qualms about transfiguring him into whatever animal she saw fit, when it should be perfectly clear that sort of behavior only brought back that traumatic time in his life that she and her friends saw as a perfectly hilarious joke. It actually said a lot about their sense of humor, being it was A. So three years ago and B. Child abuse, but _whatever_.

What had he been on about? Right!

Fourth, Potter clearly had feelings for her. Sure, wasn't anything she had _done _per say, it just spoke to what kind of fucked up situation they must be in if _he _and _Potter_ agreed on anything.

And speaking of the Pothead and his Weasel wanker, how the fuck had _they _somehow managed to evade blame in the whole pot smoking situation? Both from the administration _and_ Hermione, who'd somehow convinced herself it was Draco's fault, which, brought him to number five on his list, refusing to accept responsibility and laying blame where it should go – with Weasley.

XXX

The question of what, exactly, Harry meant by 'knowing what was going on' was lost in about fifty gazillion more questions when his pocket watch turned back into Pansy Parkinson.

"What the hell, Harry, you thought this bitch could manage to keep time?" Ginny glared at the Slytherin girl.

Pansy ignored her, looking around the room in confusion, "What happened?"

"_Harry_, in all his brilliance," Blaise explained, "Decided it best to transfigure you into a pocket watch."

"What kind?" she asked.

"Parkinson, are you mental?" Ginny tried to process what possible reason the girl would ask.

"Was it gold?" Pansy asked, keeping her eyes on Harry, who blushed.

"It was gold," he confirmed, "With an engraving."

"Oh, Merlin," Ron muttered, "Is this flirting to you, Parkinson?"

"She obliviated you," Harry explained, "She was going to do all of us, so we couldn't support Hermione's story and she'd be expelled."

Every eye turned to Pansy. "They've been horrid this year, both of them! Do you really want them to stay in school, making us all nauseas?"

"I realize you're no mental giant here, Pans, but you're really the only person that cares about the Malfoys marriage," Blaise pointed out.

"Harry does, why else would he rescue me from Draco?"

Ron sighed, "Bloody hell, Harry, we'll never be rid of her now."

XXX

"Tell me, Hermione, really, mother to daughter, why wouldn't you tell us something so important? I won't share with your husband if it's to do with him."

Hermione sighed. If she'd thought the puking thing would hold them off more than half an hour, she'd been underestimating. "Mum, I don't really know what to say. I just thought you wouldn't understand making a decision at such a young age."

Helen Granger paused a moment, "Hermione, you and Draco have both gone through more life experiences than anyone your age deserves to. If, by chance, something good comes of it, I won't be the one to tell you no."

"Oh," Hermione didn't know quite how to respond to such open, heartfelt support from her mother, "I appreciate that."

"Love doesn't come at any certain age. But don't expect marriage to be easy just because you're in love."

Easy. Right. _That's_ what came to mind with her marriage.

"AND," Helen added, obviously eager to impart her marital wisdom on her daughter, "You have to remember that passion doesn't last on it's own, you have to...stoke the fires, if you will."

Sweet Merlin. "Mum, my stomach, you remember just a bit ago?"

"Hermione, are you _sure _you're not pregnant?"

"Mum, that's impossible."

Her mother looked amused, "I doubt that."

"Well, not _impossible_," Hermione blushed, "But I wasn't last month, so wouldn't it be a little early for morning sickness?"

"Oh, not at all, when I had you, I was sick to my stomach before I ever missed a period. You could be having my first grandchild, what do you think of that?"

Hermione vomited.

XXX

Draco burst through the door to find Hermione and her mother standing over a cauldron.

"This is so exciting," Helen's eyes gleamed as Hermione poured Merlin-knows-what into the pot.

"Oh good, you're here," Hermione stalked over to him and yanked a hair from his head.

"Dear, why do you need _his_ hair?" her mother asked, "Shouldn't your blood be enough?"

"Mum, it's a magical potion, it doesn't necessarily cling to scientific fact."

"Right, right...well, it's too early for science to know if you're pregnant," her mother shrugged, "I guess it's good you have magic."

Draco blinked, "Could you repeat that?"

"Why don't I give you a moment with your husband, Hermione," Helen scurried from the room quickly.

"I could swear your mother just mentioned you were pregnant," Draco glared at his wife.

"Actually, she mentioned I _could _be pregnant, we'll know momentarily."

"We can't go through with the divorce if you're up the duff."

"How gentlemanly of you."

"Not really, but if you're mental if you think I'm letting you raise my son alone. I can't have a Malfoy running around, clothing elves, it's embarrassing."

Hermione glared at him, "How lovely to know you wouldn't want to divorce me because it would be _embarrassing _for you."

"Oh, please, it was your idea, I'm just giving you a friendly warning that I'll fight you on it if you're pregnant."

"Well, it's not as if I have to _stay_ pregnant."

Hatred blazed through his body and he glared at her.

"_What_ was that?" he stepped up very close to her.

"Nothing," she shook her head and backed away from him. "I didn't mean it."

"What's _wrong _with you?" he grabbed her arms, shaking her, "Is this really nothing to you? You want it over, obviously, but why invite me back here? What do you really want? Is this some kind of torture? Bloody fuck, Granger, you're killing me!"

"I wasn't thinking, okay! I just didn't want you locked up in the school alone with Dumbledore, waiting to get expelled, all right?"

"So it was a pity thing?" he shuddered, "Feel bad for the guy you're dumping?"

"Look, obviously this," she motioned to what had become very little space between them, "isn't going to last, but I'm sad about that, okay? Our relationship isn't nothing to me and I didn't want you staying there when you still had family!"

"Could you be more asinine about this, Granger?"

"Fine, whatever, I thought maybe it would mean something to you too, that maybe we could be friends after this..."

XXX

"You are fucking mental," Draco informed her and Hermione could feel the vague prickling in her eyes.

"Can we just get on with the potion, then," she tried to push away from him, but he kept her there, pinned to the wall.

"Why do we have to break up? Why is divorce the only thing that makes sense to you at this point?"

She couldn't believe he was even asking, as though it wasn't completely obvious how wrong they were for each other, what an unholy union it had been from the beginning. "We never wanted to be married in the first place! Just because we had sex once, does that really mean we are stuck with each other forever? That we would even make a good couple? We obviously don't even get along!"

"Don't we?" he mocked her, "I disagree."

And he kissed her. Hard and bruising, then soft and begging. His tongue slid into her mouth and heat shot straight to her stomach and lower, sending her whole body smoldering.

As arguments went, it was completely illogical.

...bloody cheater.

To Be Continued


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling and probably also Warner Bros. for the time being, though I'm not sure entirely how that works…

WARNING: This is not the last chapter. This is the second to the last chapter. If you are going to lose your shit and yell at me if you get to the 'To Be Concluded…' please just wait. Seriously. It's totally okay with me. I'm already aware that I suck. Cross my heart. We can just agree to agree.

Okay, so for those that really like Author's Notes: (Everyone else can feel free to skip on to the story because I really don't say anything else of particular importance.)

A/N #1: About the names in the last chapter. You may have noticed that they changed. Like, a lot. I kind of thought it was funny, but I'm sure there's at least one person that wants to murder me in my sleep. (Probably one of the people that's really out of sorts about the spacing.) I'm currently editing out all instances of Harold, Richard, Ted, Sarah and Lydia in this chapter… So hey, fingers crossed.

A/N #2: Big thank you to those who have taken the time to give me feedback on this story. I absolutely love the vast majority of you.

A/N #3: So… funny story. It's been awhile, as you know… and in that time… I read the books. Heh. They're kind of awesome, right? Who knew?

And, onward…

Hermione Malfoy, Chapter Nineteen

by scarlet (superscar)

Hermione barely noticed the pain as her back slammed into the wall. All she felt was heat, building inside of her body and clawing its way out. She wanted to follow the scorching trail into the abyss, but Draco's lips anchored her to the earth.

It wasn't like the first time, when his body begged her to stay with him. There were no requests, just demands.

She couldn't think and didn't care.

XXX

When Draco's brain returned to regular function, Hermione gave him a lazy smile, like she wasn't quite ready to re-enter the world and deal with their problems. He couldn't agree with her more.

"Go again?" he asked, eager to get back to the thought-blocking pleasure.

It was the wrong move and he could tell immediately as her smile froze. Fuck.

"Please?" he asked politely, hoping she'd fall for it.

She not only ignored the question, but began pulling her pants back on in blatant defiance. Frigid bitch. Fine. He didn't really want to anyway.

"Well, if this isn't proof the nice guy never wins."

"_What?_ Are _you_ the nice guy in this scenario?"

"Did I not say please?"

Hermione threw his pants at him.

"When _you_ said please, I went along with what you wanted," he pointed out, waiting eagerly for Hermione to explode.

"Malfoy, I'm pretty sure you were ready to 'fuck me harder' whether I said please or not."

Draco smiled. So true. But, "_Hardly_ the point. I thought you were a woman of principle."

Hermione slid her shirt back over her head with a sigh, "I suppose you're headed toward a point with all this?"

"You don't like it when I'm nice to you."

Her head whirled toward him. That's right, he said it.

"That's completely absurd."

"Really?" he slid into his trousers slowly, making sure she got an eyeful as he got dressed. "Because whenever we're getting along, you bloody ruin everything."

"There's nothing to ruin!"

"Nothing! We could, at this very moment, be passed out from too much orgasm. Who had to put on her clothes and ruin it? Not me!"

"There's no point in us having sex!"

Flabbergasted, Draco could barely stutter the only obvious response to her bat shit insanity. "The... sex! ...is... its own point!"

"See, this is the difference between men and women."

"Gods, please do not hit me with that feminist bull shit about how we are all equal because women are secretly superior."

"It's really not a secret, Malfoy."

"There's no such thing as innate superiority of a certain group. Surely that's common knowledge in the mudblood community."

"There _is_ such thing as personal superiority," she assured him.

"Hah! You admitted it! Merlin. Finally! You think you're superior to me."

"I _know_ I am."

Righteous glee clambered through his body. "And if you think you're superior to _me_, you think you're superior to _everybody! _Don't you see how much we have in common?"

XXX

Hermione's head fell into her hands as she realized what she'd walked into. "Malfoy, arrogance is nothing to be proud of!" So what if they had a similar weakness for ignoring the strengths of others?

"Of course not, Hermione, that's ridiculous," he said, as though he was talking to a child. "My intelligence, keen wit, sexual prowess and devastating attractiveness... those are things to be proud of. Arrogance is just a natural byproduct."

"Malfo-"

"Oh! I'm also really good with people. Don't forget that one."

Hermione recognized that for what it was... bait. He'd lure her into knocking his people skills, which _were _clearly lacking, thank you very much! Then he'd find a way to bring up her sexual response to him as insufficient, but highly embarrassing evidence of his point.

"I really hate you."

Draco scoffed. "You love me."

Hermione sputtered. "You're getting that from _what_, exactly?"

"Don't be obtuse. If you weren't in love with me, we'd be shagging against the wall right now."

Relieved that he didn't have better reason, Hermione pointed out what she felt was the obvious flaw with the argument. "I'm not in love with a lot of people, Malfoy, am I shagging them?"

"Well, you can't shag anyone else when you're in love with me. You're just not that kind of girl, Mrs. Malfoy."

"Does love make you want to bash someone's head against the wall?" she asked.

Draco laughed. "You feel it too?"

XXX

He'd started out just trying to piss her off, but his reasoning actually made a lot of sense. How had he not seen it before? Granted, she was an absolute nutter about the whole thing, but birds in love could be like that. She'd never be this pissed about it if she didn't have feelings for him.

"Draco, this isn't healthy!"

She could really get stuck on the most pointless subjects. "Love isn't salad, Hermione. Pretty fucking boring if it was."

"We don't even like each other!"

"That's bollocks. Can't think of anyone I like more."

"Even if that were true, it's just because you hate people."

"Not people, just Gryffindors."

"How can we possibly have a relationship if you hate my friends?"

"Oh, _what_, like you love mine?"

"That's only exactly my point!"

"Well, do you see any of them here now?"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Sever the umbilical, Granger, Merlin! Not like you can't get along without them for a few seconds."

"Oh, and it's working out just splendidly too."

Draco was beginning to question whether the ends justified him strangling her into submission. "Is there something you have against being happy?"

"I'm not happy!"

"Right, but you could be if you just admit that you wanted this. You were happy before we got expelled, it can be that way again."

"We were EXPELLED, Malfoy! My worst nightmare came to fruition because of our relationship!"

"You say that like it's already happened."

"You just... you throw books! You smoke pot! You got me expelled! You may have gotten me pregnant! How can I live like that?"

He'd completely forgotten the pregnancy issue, the whole start to this walk down insanity lane. Shit. At least pregnancy would account for her obvious hormonal imbalance. "You have named absolutely nothing that makes shit-all difference in the grand scheme."

"Getting expelled hardly recommends a great future!"

"Where's your faith? You think I'm going to let that happen? You think Potter and Redface will just wank off and let that happen? They're probably giving their lonely brain cells a workout right now with just that issue. And side note, I'm sure they do a lot more book throwing and pot smoking than I do."

There was something else he'd meant to mention. Oh, right. "When is that potion going to be done?"

"It was done. Then we were... busy. Now I have to do it over."

"So you should do that, then."

Hermione yanked out a chunk of his hair from the follicle. "Love to."

XXX

"...and that's the plan. Pansy will just tell the truth."

Blaise laughed, but no one else did. Apparently, wild fits of ludicrous honesty were just commonplace happenings at the Burrow. "Sorry, was that not a joke?" Potter was clearly insane if he thought that was going to work.

"It's not like I've never told the truth before, he-bitch," Pansy pouted, which wasn't exactly the same as agreeing with the plan.

"So you're going to?" Harry asked.

"To save Granger and Malfoy? Or wait, sorry, _Malfoy_ and Malfoy?" Pansy asked, "Are you mental?"

Potter actually seemed surprised with the answer, as though no one had thought to question him before.

"You know, it wouldn't be too hard for him to turn you back into that gold watch you liked so much," Ron pointed out.

"He can't do that. He's a good guy. Truth will set you free sort of rot."

"Lucky I decided to show up, then."

Every head swung to the doorway, where Draco Malfoy leaned casually against the door jam as though he often graced the Burrow with his presence. "Parkinson. Glad you're here. Just the bitch I've been wanting to dismember."

Pansy tried to subtly reach for her wand only to find four others trained on her immediately.

Draco hadn't bothered, just smiled at the others. "Let's chat, shall we?"

XXX

Maybe she could live with the pot smoking. Apparently, Harry and Ron did it and she'd never noticed a serious dip in their behavior or IQ. The thought that they had nowhere to go but up seemed a little disloyal and she dismissed it.

She'd have to make it very clear that books were to be treated with respect. There was just really no excuse...

Gods, what was she doing? Getting onto his 'this can work' train of ridiculous?

So she had feelings for him. Feelings faded. Better they did so now before they actually started to believe they were really married. What were they going to do? _Not_ graduate Hogwarts and just live with Malfoy's mother? If rumors were to be believed, Hermione would spend the formative months of her possible pregnancy being yelled at by the Malfoys' racist family portraits.

There was a bloody brilliant picture.

_Or_ she could dump Malfoy on his arse, never step foot near his dead relations and go on to lead a relatively happy life, providing she could still get her damned N.E.W.T.S. If she had to go back to the muggle world and pretend to be an _Illusionist_ she was going to murder Draco Malfoy.

Nervously, Hermione added the last ingredient, her own hair, to the potion. If it turned white, all would be well. She could go back to life as she knew it and try to focus on something positive, like finding Pansy Parkinson and beating the slutty out of her. If, however, the potion turned orange, there was the horrid possibility that she might have to actually try to work things out with Draco.

As well as they could be worked out with the miserable git.

XXX

The plan was tactically flawed from the outset. Probably because it came from the mind of one Harry Potter, the Boy Who'd Really Just Lay There Gurgling and Took Credit. If it had been Hermione's plan, Draco would have gone into it with a lot more confidence. He'd maintain healthy cynicism, of course, he had an image to think about, but the near certainty of worsening the situation would be pleasantly absent, which would, ideally, lead to the relaxation of certain sphincters.

But unfortunately, Hermione needed to be present to create a plan and was too pissed off to still have that whole 'expulsion' cloud overhead to actually speak to him. Which was mental, given that she was the most likely of their group to actually come up with something that would work. Smart-person stupid really was the most irritating kind.

As it was, he was mostly concentrating on what to do when the whole 'honesty thing' backfired tremendously. Of all the jobs _he_ had to get stuck with, just because his "mother" was the person involved. As Draco dropped the floo powder to the transport himself home to Malfoy Manor, he wondered, not for the first time, if Potter really appreciated his life as an orphan.

Draco was surprised that his mother had left the Manor connected to the Floo network until the moment he stepped past the fireplace. Inches away from his eyeball was the pointy end of a long hair, attached to a massive wart, in the company of a great many friends, all of which sat upon the flaring nostril of Great Uncle Stabilius Malfoy.

Taking into account the fact that Uncle Stabby was probably the most hideous bloke to grace the magical world in the past eight centuries, Draco was actually proud of the fact that he didn't fully ass plant directly back into the fireplace. Minor shrieking was just a natural reaction the portrait was undoubtedly used to.

Though from the way he plugged his ears, one would think _Draco_ was the family embarrassment hidden in the haunted corridor, behind the secret passage, on the way to the dungeons.

The wizarding world really couldn't get any judgier than the artwork at Malfoy Manor.

He straightened up carefully. Gracefully, too, he thought, considering the circumstances. "Mother?" Draco called out, unsurprised when the only reaction in the shrunken room was a low chuckle and quivering wart hair.

The Malfoy Library, normally the size of the great hall at Hogwarts, had been completely contained to what felt like a thimble, was probably actually around the size of a coffin and it was completely impossible to turn around.

He was particularly fond of how every other thing that was usually part of the library was now miniaturized, so even if he was the type to just read a book and wait for her to get done with her hissy fit, even the largest volumes on dark magic from the dawn of time were smaller than his toenails and about as easy to read as Hermione's moods.

His mother sure knew how to make a statement through décor.

Great Great Uncle Stabilius had always been a hideous bloke and rumor within the family had always been that the picture didn't even do justice to the horror of it. If family history was to be believed, Muggles had based much of their magical imagery on Stabilius Malfoy.

The family liked to keep that quiet, of course.

In his youth, the story had only fueled Draco's bigotry, since surely only the stupidest of people could have mistook Stabilius for female.

"Your mother has asked that I entertain you as you wait for her."

Obviously, his mother was far more interested in entertaining herself with the thought of Draco being forced to stare at the portrait that had scared the living shit out of him as a child.

At some point in the future, he would surely appreciate it on some level.

Once the claustrophobia and repulsion abated, perhaps.

"Did my mother ever tell you I got married?"

The vindictively amused expression left Stabilius's face. "What has that to do with anything? You're but a child."

"Might have a child, too. Continue the Malfoy name and all that."

Draco could tell his Uncle was nervous about the choice of topic. Probably because any wizard who half liked women would have glamoured their face so one could kiss them without retching. Or took a potion for a skin condition that made the plague look like acne.

"Great girl, Hermione. Never really noticed her until this year. Since she's muggleborn and everything, but I'm thinking of taking out an ad in the Daily Prophet."

"You're… you can't. She's not…"

"She is. Cutest little teeth. Pretty much thanks to me, by the way, but that's a side issue."

"A _Malfoy_ cannot marry a muggle!"

"Sure, we can. I didn't, as it happens. She's pretty much the most powerful witch alive. I'm talking, within shaggable age range, obviously."

"You're a traitor to your blood."

"Sure, sure. Gods, she's flexible. She'd kill me if you repeated this, so just between us, right, Uncle Stabilius?"

"You will be silent! Utter not her name –"

"Hermione's name, you mean? Hermione Malfoy? That has such a great ring. We could name our first daughter after her. Maybe both her and Mum. Hermione Narcissa Malfoy? Did I tell you she might be expecting? Hermione, I mean, not my mother. Fuck, can you imagine? There's an awful thought. Sorry! Back to Hermione Malfoy…"

But it was too late. Uncle Stabilius had vacated the premises.

Who needed a wand when he had his mouth?

Draco conjured himself a nice little chair with nice plush curtains and sat in front of the fire to wait for his mother to get over her hissy fit.

It didn't take too terribly long before his mother finally showed up. Due to the lack of reading material, he mostly just relived his sexcapades from that morning. He hadn't been lying about the flexibility and time flew right on by.

"Mother," Draco acknowledged as the room returned to normal size.

"Oh, hello Draco, I hadn't realized you'd arrived." She didn't crack anywhere. No sparkle in the eyes or twitch in her smile of welcome. Fuck, he needed her to teach him how she did that. He just had too much fun lying to ever be as completely convincing at it. Maybe if he kept it for more serious topics. Something that mattered. Like money.

"Mother, I'm here to discuss finances."

He wasn't. Not at all.

"Are you concerned my lack of income when you actually manage to get me fired will end up negatively impacting your lifestyle?"

Well, sure. _Now_. But he couldn't let her sidetrack him. His marriage was on the line. "Negatively impact how?" he asked.

XXX

Hermione whispered the last words to the spell over the completed potion, just waiting for the information that would change her life forever.

She held her breath as it turned… _white_. Huh.

"Would you like some tea, dear?" Helen Granger asked as Hermione walked into the room in a daze. "Have you gotten the results, then?" She asked when it became obvious her daughter wasn't going to answer.

"What was that, mum?"

"Your magical pregnancy. Have you found out yet?"

"It's not a magical pregnancy, it's a magical pregnancy _test_. A potion."

"So it's fool proof, then, correct?"

Well, no, a fool could mess it up just fine. But Hermione wasn't a fool. "It's negative. I'm not pregnant."

Odd that for some reason, she'd expected to be. Like that might explain how her emotions were all over the place and her strange attachment to Draco in spite of the more than obvious fact that he was a complete prat. Or even the fact that she'd vomited twice in the last twelve hours.

"Aww, honey. There'll be plenty of time for that in the future. After you've graduated and have a good job. That's how it works in that other world too, isn't it?"

"Yeah, mom. Everyone works. Unless you're born rich, like Draco. Who knows what he'll do. Create new ways to torture Hufflepuffs, I guess."

Helen's nose scrunched tightly until she finally shook her head. "Sorry dear, remind me what a Hufflepuff is again? Is it the who-what'sits that fly about?"

"You're thinking of a Hippogriff."

"Right, right. You rescued one of those."

"Right. From _Draco_, by the way. Still think he's Prince Charming?"

"Oh, love, it's clear you're determined to fight with him today, but wasn't that in your fourth year? He was merely a child."

"Trust me, he still is."

"Alright then," Hermione's mother sighed, pouring herself a tea. "Let's have it, love. What did he do?"

The most annoying thing he'd done, Hermione realized, was to _not_ actually do anything particularly clear cut or easily explainable.

Git.

XXX

"This is a horrible idea," Ron said as Harry rang the bell at the Granger residence.

"Well, they don't have a floo, idiot, they're muggles," Ginny pointed out.

"That's not what I meant. Why are we even involving Hermione at this stage, shouldn't we just leave her alone until she can't turn us all into beetles?"

"Okay, A, she's never actually turned anyone into a beetle –"

"Just a poodle."

"That was hilarious," Ron insisted. "Is it wrong that I'm kind of enjoying the Hermione and Malfoy pairing now? It's just that sort of totally sick and wrong that's become entertaining, you know?"

"No," Harry said.

"You're just saying that because when they get divorced, you don't want to be heartbroken, right, Potter?" Blaise asked.

Slytherins were difficult to like on their best day, Harry couldn't help but notice.

"How do we even get in the house?" Pansy asked. "This whole muggle scene creeps me out."

The door opened, then, before Pansy could get into anything else. "Hallo, Mr. Granger. Hermione in this morning?"

XXX

Draco regretted allowing his mother to get them off track almost immediately. Yes, yes, she was angry and it would cost him in the pocketbook area and be super, super annoying. He got it. But he had a mission, here. He was supposed to say… something.

"Mother, please shut up a moment."

Narcissa's mouth dropped. This probably wasn't the ideal way to butter her up to do him a favor, but he was losing his shit with her constant dramatics.

"Look, we need your help."

"_My_ help? After your attempt to get me fired from a job I enjoyed?"

"After your attempt to give the entire student population a nice visual of my most embarrassing baby habits, what the fuck option did I have?"

"Language!"

"Mother. I'm of age. I'm married. I may or may not be a father soon, fates depending."

Narcissa brightened up immediately. "A baby?" she asked.

Obviously, he should have just led with that.

XXX

Hermione and her mother followed the sound of her father's voice into the living room, where a few people she loved, one person she was open to liking and another that she wanted to stuff with tiny feathers and drop kick repeatedly, stood waiting.

"…Hi?" she didn't really know what else to say.

"Hey Hermione!" Ron came over to give her a hug. "How's the holiday going?"

It was pretty awful, but getting into that in front of her parents wasn't exactly her first choice. "Umm… it's alright. What's going on?"

"We're supposed to get everyone to sign this. Right?" Ron looked to Harry to confirm what he was saying, which didn't bolster a lot of Hermione's confidence in whatever insane plan they'd come up with to get her out of this expulsion mess. Then again, it was the same look Ron would give Hermione in transfiguration and he'd eventually managed that one.

"Too right," Harry agreed. "Your place is on the way to the Creeveys."

"Wait. The Creeveys? You're having _everyone_ everyone sign this? Every student at Hogwarts? What is this?"

She started reading the fine print at the top of the petition. "You can't be serious, Harry. You want every student to admit to the exact thing that they want to expel Draco and me for?"

"Well, they can't expel all of us."

"They can certainly expel anyone who is stupid enough to put their names on this list," Hermione muttered.

Pansy laughed, "That's what I said!"

"Oh, brilliant. So whose plan was this, then?"

XXX

There was a whooshing of green dust to announce the next visitor to the Malfoy Library and Draco was easily distracted from whatever his mother was babbling on about.

"Draco Malf-oh, shite!" Hermione's voice cut off immediately and Draco bounded from his chair to find his wife, as expected, staring in mute horror at the new library decoration.

"Hermione, Uncle Stabilius. Stabby, my wife, Hermione Malfoy."

"You are a pox upon the House of Malfoy!"

Hermione went from shocked fascination to annoyance very quickly. "Nice welcome mat, Malfoy. Thanks a bunch."

"Blame mother. Was her brilliant plan to dig him out of the back hall in the first place."

"You dirty the purity of our line with the blood of your loins!"

"Just the blood from my loins?" Hermione asked, "The rest of my blood is fine?"

Loins was such an odd word for an incongruously arousing part of the body. Really, wasn't that whole area considered dirty on some level? Ideally, at any rate? He supposed its every day functions were more or less boring. "I think it's probably just the epicenter of contamination," Draco reasoned. "Then it moves up and out, counterclockwise until it affects the whole family."

"Counterclockwise?" Hermione asked.

He knew she'd like that part. "Obviously. Common knowledge."

"So sexual relations aren't required with everyone, then?" Hermione asked, stepping bravely close to the portrait in front of her. Plucky little Gryffindor bitch.

Stabby swallowed.

"Fuck, you're turning me on," Draco told her and in principle, it couldn't be truer. In practice, she was standing _right_ next to Uncle Stab-your-eyes and it was really killing all physical reaction from the neck down. Not like lying wasn't fun enough on its own, though. "Contaminate me right here, right now." He whirled her around, pulled her into him and kissed her, slamming her right up against the portrait. She moaned loudly, rubbing herself against the wall like the evil genius she was.

The sounds of gagging as his Uncle stumbled away was like a reward to his very soul and blood rushed back to every area of his body.

Mission accomplished.

Really, it wasn't necessary for him to continue dry humping his wife into the wall, but it was clearly stated in their relationship manifesto that it was his job to transition wildly inappropriate moments into sex and hers to put on the breaks.

Plus, with the ugly out of the picture, she was creating some serious wood.

When she tilted her head, banging her head rapturously against the empty canvas, he took the opportunity, kissing down her neck as she breathed heavily in his ear.

"Yes, Draco! Counterclockwise!" she cried out.

He burst into laughter, laying his forehead against her clavicle to catch his breath before looking into her great big dancing eyes. "Gods, I love you." He heard the words and saw the way her eyes widened and smile froze.

It just took him a second longer to realize that _he_ was the one who had spoken.

Shit, she really was contaminating him.

To Be Concluded…


	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: The characters and world found within this story are the property of J.K. Rowling, whether or not she would approve of their behavior is obviously irrelevant.

Many thanks to my friend, lenaphoria, for betaing this chapter and doing everything in her power short of violence to make sure this story got finished. However, being that I didn't exactly take all her suggestions seriously, all blame should still be cast my way. Thank you.

A/N: I decided that if the world was ending, it should do so with this story finished. Or, if it isn't ending, I could at least scare a few people because clearly, this could easily be a sign of the apocalypse.

A/N #2: For quite some time, I've been thinking about that last review that I would get before I updated this last chapter. Expecting, perhaps arrogantly, that this person would be begging me to update, I would wonder if they would end up thinking they had actual magical powers when it inevitably came to pass.

Naturally, it ended up being a grammatical disaster of a flame calling me an "Illiterate homophobic" – but really, what could be a more appropriate ending?

A/N #3: Hermione Malfoy, I loved writing you. Thank you for all the entertainment you have given me for almost ten years.

A/N #4: Thank you for all the amazing feedback. It is truly _ridiculous_ how generous people have been with their time and opinions. Be blessed and I hope you enjoy the conclusion.

Hermione Malfoy, Chapter Twenty

by scarlet (superscar)

Narcissa Malfoy, while interested in the procreation of her grandchildren, didn't care to actually watch it happen. Particularly in her library. At the same time, she didn't want to interrupt the conception of Narcissa Malfoy II, if, in fact, it hadn't happened already.

So she left. She had other places to be.

XXX

"You cannot be serious!" Hermione pushed Draco away from her and allowed her legs to drop back down to the floor. She was aware of the fact that, usually, women tended to transition declarations of love into passionate encounters, but most women didn't have Draco Malfoy to deal with.

"That's your reaction?" Draco asked. "You don't believe me?"

"Well, Malfoy, you're a liar, why _would_ I believe you?"

"I believe _you."_

"About what, exactly?"

"That you love me, obviously. That's what we're talking about."

"I never said I loved you!"

"Oh, Hermione, you didn't need to _say_ it," he condescended, as though she was terribly naïve to believe _he_ could possibly be that naïve.

Only the fact that Draco would take a violent reaction from Hermione as proof of her apparent unending passion for him kept him safe from the storms of wrath she would eagerly rain down on his stupid blond head.

Yet she had been laughing, smooching and joking around with him not even a minute earlier. What the hell was _wrong_ with her?

Gods, she hoped she wasn't really in love with him.

Though, that would fit in just great with the rest of her freaking day. Throw in an expulsion and it would be absolutelyperfect.

How awful of a person had she been in a previous life to have been given the arduous task of fighting off the world's most evil wizard _and _be forced to spend the rest of her life with the most irritating git to ever grace the halls of Hogwarts?

No. The temporary agreement she had made in what must have been a moment of absolute insanity could not last a second longer.

"We have to end this!" She came to the conclusion as it tumbled out of her mouth and automatically cringed as she waited for Draco's reaction.

"By 'this' I assume you are referring to the greater 'this' of our marriage and not the ridiculous debate over whether or not you're madly in love with me?"

"That would be correct."

"So you forfeit, then?" he asked as Hermione finally met his eyes, dreading where he could possibly be going with this.

"By 'forfeit' I assume _you _are referring to the absurd accusation that I'm madly in love with you?"

"Well, you're changing the subject. That could only mean you knew you had a weak argument."

"That's ridiculous. _You're _ridiculous."

"Just another thing you love about me."

"Are you trying to get me to hex you?"

"Will it remove your head from your arse if you do?"

"You'd best stop. You're only giving me ideas."

"Oh, you could curse me into a near permanent state of arousal? Fuck, that's already happened."

"You're eighteen, Malfoy. That's nothing to do with me."

"Oh, right. I forgot how I just shagged _myself _up against the wall this morning. You're _positive_ you don't want to do that again?" he asked, stepping closer to her.

"We're in your mother's library!"

"Mother wants grandchildren," he shrugged, like she was the ridiculous one now. "But if location is the only thing that's bothering you…" He took her hand and the room melted away around them. "Brilliant, she fixed it."

"Who fixed what?" Hermione asked as she took in what had to be Draco's bedroom. The first tip off being the massive bed the spoiled brat had undoubtedly spelled for the comfort of whatever guests he might spirit into his room. The fact that she was now supposed to join that long list made Hermione shake her hand free from his grasp.

"Shortcut Charm. My mother suspended it when I got in. She used to do it when I was little too, when she wanted to put me on time out."

If anything could drag Hermione's attention away from the décor, it was this remarkable news. "Seriously, Malfoy? You were disciplined as a child?"

"Sent to bed with only three chocolate frogs."

"Devastating."

"Well, Mum would sometimes set the charm to send me somewhere else, like the dungeons or the room where we keep the Christmas gifts we don't want."

"She'd consider that punishment?"

"Nah. She'd consider it funny, though."

"So glad I'm not bringing another child into this family."

"Fuck, Granger, you should have seen what my father thought was hilarious." It was at that point he realized ... "Wait, you took the test?"

XXX

The Granger residence was a quaint little three-story, nestled at the end of a winding road with a fanciful gate that seemed to protect the other six houses on the way from absolutely nothing at all.

Even a witch with so little muggle influences as Narcissa Malfoy was perfectly aware that the ability to walk around a gate was in no way magical in nature.

In a world where even her very own baby was out to get her, Narcissa felt that standard security measures were in order, so whispered a short incantation before nodding to her house elf.

Midgen did as directed, rapping on the door with barely a shake in her small fist, but almost immediately began fretting. Moaning, really, as though she had eaten something particularly foul and was unable to find the facilities.

"Not now! We're here to make a good impression."

The sound was contained, but not the twitching. Large tears welled in the elf's eyes and Narcissa had to gather her inner patience, which wasn't a quality she had in abundance.

"What's the matter?" she hissed, hoping to get whatever it was out of the way before someone inside the house made it to the door.

"Midgen don't want a hat!"

In her elf-like wonder, Midgen had clearly apparated far beyond the actual situation and Narcissa hadn't the patience to follow the unique path her mind had taken. She didn't like house elves. Ever since childhood, she had found their warbling and emotional ways just shy of infuriating. This particular elf had a tendency to follow her about, trying to gain her attention. For the young Narcissa Black, it had made Midgen the perfect target for experimental hexes. "Please, stop your nonsense, Pidgeon."

"I be MIDGEN!"

Shit. Now she would never be rid of the problem.

When Draco was eleven, just home from Hogwarts for the Christmas Holiday, he began to take notice of Midgen for the first time. House elves in general, really. It was just Midgen who got the creative and, very possibly, cruel, end of the stick.

"Why don't house elves fly?" he had asked his mother one afternoon. The household, at large, was just lucky Draco had lost interest in the subject by the time he reached the point in his lessons where he'd have been able to transfigure a quality wing.

She preferred not to think about why, exactly, he was asking that question. Really, Midgen could have been limping about for any number of reasons and, even if she wasn't, wouldn't Narcissa have been the very height of hypocritical if she had limited Draco's chocolate frog intake over something she had done so often herself? It was just a part of growing up with house elves. A pureblood right of passage.

But Draco had never been one to limit his creative exploration to magic. The clever little thing had taken to writing catchy little rhymes.

It all started out with:

There once was a house elf named Midgen

Who couldn't speak English a smidgen

You could spend all the day

Wondering 'What did she say?!'

So I've taken to calling her Pidgeon

Narcissa had found it uproariously hilarious and repeated it often. Under her motherly encouragement, Draco had created a series of variations. Words, as it turned out, had real staying power and it took several very stern self-beatings for Midgen to get a handle of herself.

Naturally, Draco had found it inspiring and soon everyone was repeating:

There's a house elf that spends her time bitchin'

You can't imagine the fits she's been pitchin'

Would give her a hat

But then just like that

We'd be down one more lump in the kitchen

It didn't actually manage to shame Midgen into shutting the hell up, but Narcissa had been really amused that Christmas.

And now, unfortunately, she couldn't help being curious. Sighing, she turned to the elf, "Why are you worried about hats?"

"Because _she_ lives here!"

"Hermione?"

"The Hogwarts terror! Left hats to innocents! Took Dobby! Oh, they say! Leaving hats everywhere! Charmed to attach themselves to any who might come by! She stole Dobby from his rightful home!"

Much as Narcissa recognized her own spin on the series of events being parroted back to her - with a few interesting embellishments - she didn't particularly like being lied to. Knowing it was her own lie only made the experience that much more irritating.

"My son's wife is hardly stealing elves or trapping them into freedom with magical hats. Furthermore, she isn't in any position to give you clothes. It would be my duty as head of the household."

"Pardon, glorious Mistress –"

The door opened midway into Midgen's obsequious apology and only a swift kick from Narcissa cut off the list of praises that were flying from the infernal elf's mouth. Unfortunately, in spite of years of practice, Midgen was wholly unprepared for the sharp blow and smashed into the Grangers' opening screen door.

A marvelous first impression, to be sure.

"Professor Malfoy?"

Or, as it turned out, not a first impression at all. Granted, Harry Potter was famous in the Malfoy household for his apparent love of house elves, as he had managed to free one of theirs. But, given what he already knew, there was really very little Narcissa could do to create a _worse_ impression. So she counted it a win and shoved Midgen out of her way.

"I believe this is the residence of Mr. and Mrs. Granger? If you would be so kind as to inform them of my arrival."

Apparently, the Grangers were the sort to let just anyone answer the door. Not that Muggle etiquette was something she'd ever expected to understand.

"They're expecting you, then?" the insolent little Gryffindor asked.

"I'm sure our communiqué on the subject isn't the concern of the door man."

"Who is it, Harry?" a woman's voice floated from the inside of the door.

"Hermione's Professor-in-law."

"_Here?"_ another asked. A bright red-head poked out from behind Potter's shoulder. Narcissa assumed that it was Rob Weasley, the one in Harry and Draco's age group, but she'd never taken much interest in telling them all apart. Weren't there a few sets of twins amongst them? "What are _you_ doing here?"

"I'm sure if the visit were to your home and not the Grangers, then I would certainly tell you, Rob."

"_Ron_," he corrected.

Rob must have been his twin. She'd been quite close but, then, she'd always had an excellent memory for trivial detail. Probably where Draco got it.

"If you'll excuse me, children," a woman who was probably around Narcissa's age, though, naturally, looked much older, came to the door and flashed her quite the whitest teeth she'd ever seen on a muggle. "Mrs. Malfoy, what a delight to have you over. You'll have to excuse the children. Won't you come in? We'll have a chat, shall we?"

"We shall," Narcissa agreed, snapping at Midgen to follow her into the house, hoping she'd be able to subtly scourgify anything that wasn't up to standard.

XXX

"I'm not pregnant," she confirmed.

"Good. Great. That would have been a nightmare, anyway."

"Well, now the truth comes out. That's just brilliant, Malfoy. Don't hold back your feelings on my account."

"Oh, _so _sorry. Were you just there a minute ago when you told me you wanted a divorce? Was that you holding back for the sake of _my _feelings?"

She wouldn't meet his eyes. "Your feelings will be fine. It's your body I'm worried about."

"Sounds like you," he agreed. "Quick turn around from your virginal days."

"Obviously, I meant that –"

"Everyone knows what you meant, but your secret is safe with me."

"Can we just go back to the library? There's really nothing more for us to discuss, is there?"

"Obviously, there's the break-up sex. We shag, you remember how good you had it, we follow that up with the make-up sex and then everyone's happy."

"How about I get back to you?" she suggested.

"Why are you being such an insecure bitch about everything?"

"I'm a _what?_!"

"Well, obviously, you don't want to stay in this thing together because you're scared it will fall apart –"

"Malfoy, I'm not scared it will fall apart, I _know_ it will fall apart because I will probably kill you before the day ends!"

"Oh, you will not. Remember, once, you made sure I got medical attention when that beastly thing attacked me during your crazy giant-friend's bull shite excuse for a class?"

"_Hagrid_ had a perfectly decent class!"

"Okay, A, not the point, and B, the fact that you say that with a straight face makes me question what else you can lie out your arse about. I have one key suspect right now."

"I _do not_ love you!"

"Awww, you hit right on it."

Hermione took a very deep breath and let it out slowly, like she was counting to ten or some shit. Probably thought it would calm her down, but Draco planned to rile her right up again. Bint deserved it with her divorce talk. Not like the stress would send her into a miscarriage at this point.

"What is it you even want from marriage that you think I can't provide?" he asked, gesturing around at the room, decked to the gills with older money than she'd ever see in the muggle world.

"Mental stability?" she suggested.

Draco smiled. He _so_ had her and, from the worried look on her face, he was guessing she'd figure that out pretty soon, as well. "Think about the answer you _didn't_ give."

"Money is no reason to stay married."

"Right, cause _that's_ what I meant."

XXX

Helen watched Draco's mother as she walked through their home, clearly attempting to be polite, but at the same moment, on guard for anything that might jump out at her from the woodwork.

"Robbie!" Helen called up the stairs to Hermione's father. "Draco's mum's come to call. Won't you join us in the kitchen, please?"

"Lady Malfoy doesn't enter kitchen," the floppy, Yoda-like creature told Helen sternly.

A faint burst of light hit the curious muppet between the ears and it began to moan and smack itself vigorously.

"Dear gracious, whatever is the problem with it?" Helen wondered, tempted to turn it about to see if it came with batteries or an off switch.

"Midgen, do stop immediately. I apologize, Mrs. Granger, it's simply impossible to find good help. I'm sure you understand."

"Oh, nonsense," Helen insisted, "If you find a reputable agency, they only send the best people. I've never had an incident and I would swear I could eat off the tile in the kitchen when Marta's finished." Mrs. Malfoy looked absolutely horrified by the suggestion. "We _don't_, of course," Helen rushed to explain, remembering that her guest was somewhat foreign to their world, though, her accent didn't place her much further than Wiltshire. "I shall give you a number, if you like. We're just in here –" She gestured into the dining room annex, a nice little alcove between the formal dining room and the kitchen. "Shall I make us some tea, while we wait for my husband?"

"You make your own tea, Mrs. Granger?"

"It is _Dr. _Granger, actually, but please call me Helen. There's no need for such formality. We're family now, after all. Was it as great a shock for you as it was for us? They're always your babies, after all. No matter what they've been going through."

"It was certainly not what I expected of Draco, but he has always delighted in shocking the world."

"I'd always had the opposite worry for Hermione. I worried that she would feel pressured to live up to whatever standards of perfection the wizarding world suggests for a child of her intellect."

"I do like to think that marrying into our family is certainly not far off."

Well! The Malfoys surely didn't lack self-esteem. "Well, naturally, love is the first thing that we wanted for our daughter, no matter what else."

It was a bit of a dig, as it was hard to imagine someone as icy as Narcissa Malfoy being a proponent of passion to any degree, but to Helen's surprise, Narcissa smiled softly. "It is so hard, isn't it? When you know what ought to make them happy but in the end they choose something so very different?"

_Did_ Draco make Hermione happy? There was a look in her eye as she spoke of him, a certain light that had never been there before, but it had been a stressful time for her daughter. Helen had certainly seen his ability to make her miserable, though, to her son-in-law's credit, that was mostly the stress of the pregnancy scare. How one could worry about such a thing when they had magic at their disposal was certainly something Helen would ever understand.

"Well, I do hope they continue to make each other happy, whatever else they choose to do with their lives."

"They will surely rule the wizarding world, if all goes according to plan." Narcissa shrugged off the ambiguity as Helen poured their tea.

"Plan?" she asked. "What plan is this? One from the cradle, perhaps?"

"Hardly!" Narcissa snapped at her muppet to stir sugar into her tea and lifted the cup to her lips. "Of course, I'm referring to the expulsion hearing."

"The _what?!" _

"The committee sub-meeting to discuss the expulsion proceedings for Draco and Hermione regarding the illegal use of potion herbs."

Helen leaped from her seat and stormed to the living room. "HARRY JAMES POTTER!"

The teenager shrank away from her, his green eyes huge behind his glasses.

"Tell me the truth on this right away, young man. I don't understand all this wizarding jargon. Is my daughter in fact being expelled from Hogwarts for _smoking pot_?"

There was a small 'eep' and a popping noise as the girl who had been leaning rather inappropriately over Harry disappeared. Poppy? Iris? Hopefully just a flavor of the month, Helen hadn't cared for her attitude, but Harry had seemed unusually interested in keeping her nearby.

"I –"

"Probably not," a dark-haired young man that Helen didn't remember inviting into her home answered for the boy who waffled.

"But, for _some_ reason, it is worth a debate?" she asked.

"Hermione wasn't smoking pot," Harry found his voice, spitting it out quickly.

"Why, then, would someone suspect that she was?"

"Well, she wasn't _purposely_ –"

"How does one accidentally smoke marijuana? Or did she not? Trust me, you can taste the difference in a brownie."

The children looked amused at that but Helen tried to gloss right over it. What happened in the 70s stayed in the 70s.

"Dr. Granger?" the dark-haired boy got her attention. "I can see you're very upset about this. Tell me… have you ever sent a howler?"

"_So_ evil," Ron muttered.

"Baby, what if they're shagging or something?" Ginny asked the fellow, very clearly more than a friend.

"A howler is pretty simple. We can help you." Harry jumped in. "What did you want to say to Hermione?"

XXX

"HERMIONE JEAN GRANGER! GET YOUR SMART BOTTOM BACK HERE TO EXPLAIN HOW YOU COULD POSSIBLY _ACCIDENTALLY _SMOKE POT AND GET EXPELLED! EXPELLED! FROM HOGWARTS! THIS IS REALLY THE HEIGHT OF CLEVERNESS FROM YOUR GENERATION?! REALLY?! AND I'M TOLD THEY MUST HAVE SENT AN OWL TO INFORM US! WHERE WAS THAT OWL HERMIONE?! DID YOU INTERCEPT IT? EXPLAIN YOURSELF IMMEDIATELY! IF YOU THINK THAT BEING MARRIED MEANS THAT YOU CAN'T BE GROUNDED UNTIL YOU'RE 45, THINK AGAIN, YOUNG LADY!"

"Shit!"

Draco couldn't stop laughing. "Those _wankers_ told her."

"They wouldn't. They _couldn't."_

"Someone did. Someone sent the howler for her too."

"Where's the floo? We have to get back there."

"You'll never be able to leave again until you're 45. Isn't that what grounding means?"

"Of course you wouldn't know what grounding means."

"Well, I've been the model child."

"Try to remember that for the expulsion hearing. Maybe your mum will write us a note about how it was all her idea."

"And then, even if it didn't work, we would still probably achieve our initial objective of getting her fired!" he realized, getting excited. "Good thinking!"

Draco put up his hand for a highfive.

Hermione just stared at his hand, purposely leaving him hanging. "How do we get back to the floo?"

XXX

The telephone rang before Helen's daughter arrived back home, making Narcissa Malfoy and Ginny Weasley's "friend", Blaise Zabini, practically dive behind the couch in terror. Something that Helen Granger told herself should not be funny in the least. The poor dears had been through a war.

But it didn't stop her husband, Robbie's chuckling as he answered the call. "Hallo, Steve. Pardon? Best get off the hooch in the mornings, mate. What? Well, obviously you couldn't call us if our house were no longer here."

What on earth? Narcissa Malfoy lifted her head and a couple of wide-eyes back out, over the cushion of the sofa. The particular wince in her expression left very few guesses as to what was going on.

"Mrs. Malfoy, would you happen to be aware why our neighbors wouldn't be able to see our house?"

"I wouldn't pretend to know or understand the problems of the muggle population of this area, Dr. Granger," the cheeky woman replied, covering her mouth briefly for a short cough, as though Helen would be quite unable to see the short burst of light to emanate from her wand.

Helen couldn't resist looking toward her daughter's friend Harry, who only shrugged in response. 'She's a ridiculous woman, what do you want me to do about it?' he seemed to be asking.

"Darling, has Steve's vision improved yet?"

"Blighter's crazy. That's right, I've said it. Our bloody house is right where it always is – Well, you ought to be sorry. Check your medications. Bloody idiot- Hermione!" He gasped in delight as his daughter entered the room by way of the fireplace in a large puff of green. "You'll never guess what old Steve on the corner was on about just now!" He hung up the phone, excited to find to a fresh audience.

"It was nothing," Helen brushed it off quickly, not really relishing the idea of having her husband repeat a story that left him the only one in the room not really putting together the entire picture. "Mrs. Malfoy was just experimenting with a rather unusual cloaking device. Will your husband be joining us, Hermione?"

Hermione just blinked at her, which was an odd reaction from the daughter that Helen frequently had to drink large amounts of caffeine to keep up with on a normal day. "Hadn't you ought to move out of the way for him to step in?" she suggested.

"Oh. Right," Hermione side-stepped and, sure enough, Draco Malfoy stepped out of the floo behind her, his arm standing straight up in the air for no apparent reason and Helen had to resist the urge to call on him like a primary school student.

"Have I missed anything?" he asked eagerly.

"She made the _entire house_ invisible?" Robbie asked, pulling them back to his new favorite subject. "Was it like a larger version of your father's toy, then, son?" he asked, turning to Harry.

"You know about that?" Draco asked. "I _just_ found out about that! Blaise, did _you_ know about that?" he asked, turning to the new boy.

"I'm still shocked the muggles have a floo, Malfoy. I've no idea what _you're_ on about," Blaise admitted.

"Potter's super secret invisibility cloak."

"Cheers, Malfoy," Harry sent him two well chosen fingers.

Draco shook his hand eagerly in front of Blaise, who rolled his eyes, but gave in, high-fiving him. Finally, Draco put his hand down. Honestly, had Hermione managed to marry an eleven-year-old?

Helen was barely following the conversation. 'Conversations', really, she mentally corrected as Robbie stepped into the living room, and began to tell Blaise and Ginny the long story of the short time it had actually taken to have a floo connected to their house in anticipation of Hermione's graduation. The reminder had her glaring in her daughter's direction.

"About time you remembered. What's wrong with you?" Hermione asked.

Really, put in perspective, Helen felt that she was the least to blame for the chaos going on in her living room. "I don't appreciate your tone, Hermione! We have guests."

"Mother you sent me a _howler_, for god's sake. And you're bringing up tone?"

The expulsion news came back to her and she felt a renewed sense of indignation. "Did you _intercept_ that owl, Hermione? What were you thinking? That we have no right to know what you are up to because we haven't any magical ability? Or is it because you are married? Do you think that you are all grown-up now and haven't any use for us? It's just, it's… _disrespectful_ and I wouldn't have thought that you would treat us this way."

"Mum-"

"And having to hear it from Narcissa Malfoy!"

There were murmurs at this, even though everyone in the room was already perfectly aware of how Helen had been forced to hear the news. It was a particularly awful bit of luck that everyone seemed quite sympathetic toward.

"Where _is_ that delightful woman, my mother?" Draco asked.

Where indeed? Helen's eyes darted to the last place she'd seen Narcissa Malfoy last, only to find the woman's odd little gremlin staring back at her.

XXX

Obviously, Narcissa Malfoy was no longer a guest in the Granger home. Which was a bit alarming since Hermione's mother-in-law was such a loose canon, but it did seem to be distracting her own mother from going apeshit about the whole pot situation.

"These are the things you like, right, Hermione? That don't have rights and can't really speak properly? Poor dears."

"House elves, Mother."

"Right, right. Shall I give it a hat, then?"

"Oh, shit," she heard Draco mutter before the abandoned elf began to wail its bloody head off.

There were multiple 'pops' as every wizard of age to participate in extracurricular magic disapparated the hell out of the crying zone. Ginny Weasley looked particularly miserable for a moment before a sheepish looking Ron reappeared, grabbed her arm and disappeared again with her.

"Pidgeon, shut the hell up!"

"MID-GEN!" the elf went spectacularly crazy, beating the hell out of herself and her nearest surroundings until Draco blasted her with an immobilizing spell.

"Sorry about that, Helen. I believe you were busy berating Hermione for her lack of consideration?"

So nice of him to remind her. If only they had time.

"Sorry, mother, if I'm to solve the problem you're complaining about, we have to be off right away."

"Really?" Draco asked, sounding a little too surprised about the turn of events. Naturally, when _his mother_ wanted to yell at him, they could have a very believable meeting with the director of muggle radio for elephants, but if _she_ wanted to avoid an irritating row, Draco wanted to be front and center to see the fallout.

She could just _hear_ Ron's voice in her ear, grating about her unfortunate taste in men. It was quite tempting to hunt down the little git and remind him that, once upon a time, _he_ had been the subject of her feverish twelve year old fantasies. Unfortunately, that only seemed to help his argument and the whole thing was probably best left to the secret corners of her mind.

"We've got to catch up to your mother before the hearing."

"Oh," Draco said, "Damn."

He actually caved a lot quicker than she'd anticipated.

XXX

Hermione spent much of their trip to the Ministry reaming Draco out about the fact that 'The Potter Plan' was utter bollocks. Since that had more or less been his feeling as well, Draco didn't put up much of a fight on the subject.

"Potter's stupid bloody idea," he'd explained. "You know he wanted to have Mother sign a statement? That she'd seen basically every bloody student in our year toking off Snape's secret potions stash?"

"That's obviously not true."

"No shit, Granger. But they're not going to call Harry Fucking Potter a liar, now are they? That's the best part. Basically the only reason I thought it might work."

"I don't understand why Dumbledore would go along with it, anyway. The whole reason we're in this mess is because we agreed to his bloody plan in the first place. Shouldn't we get… not preferential treatment."

This was the last subject in the world Draco wanted to broach, but he couldn't help himself. "How else would you define preferential treatment, exactly?"

"It's quid pro quo, Malfoy. We do him a ludicrously large favor for the betterment of society and he returns it."

"Oh, I agree. Our graduation definitely betters society at large."

Hermione cringed and he knew he had her.

"Because we're better than the rest of them," he explained further, delighting in the shade of puce she was turning. They just couldn't get a divorce, how could he find this kind of fun with any other woman? Pansy wouldn't even understand what he was getting at, for fuck's sake.

"The point _is_, by turning us in, he risks us revealing all. This is Dumbledore. He's nothing if not loyal to those who help his causes."

"Too bloody right. He's preferential as sin," Draco agreed before realizing that this put him right back at the point that he wanted to avoid in the first place.

"We have to talk to him. He can get everything pushed aside."

"Madame Hooch was there too," Draco reminded her quickly. "She's worse than you when it comes to rules. You wouldn't believe what she won't let us do in Quidditch."

"Hex Harry out of the sky?"

He couldn't help the actual tingles at _that_ amazing image. Fucking fantastic move that would have been.

"Draco?" Hermione asked.

"Hmm? Sorry, having a moment."

XXX

"Hermione?"

She heard her name as she debated the multitude of ways she could hex the wistful expression off her husband's face. But, as luck would have it, the interruption was enough. For Draco was already grimacing as Harry and Ron rushed over to them.

"You heard the news as well, then?" Harry asked.

"No…" She held her breath, looking at Draco quickly.

"You'd think they'd go to you first," Ron observed, delaying the actual revelation of whatever their news was and clearly trying Draco's patience.

"Just bloody tell us before I hex your nuts together, Weasel."

Ron and Harry just turned to Hermione with that '_Him? Really?' _expression that was starting to drive her crazy. Not unlike their seeming inability to relay potentially pertinent information. "Out with it!" she hissed.

"They moved up the hearing."

"Fuck! We've got to find your mother."

"Don't worry, Hermione. We've already got a plan." Harry laid a hand on her arm, probably in some attempt to be comforting, but it was hitting the condescension button pretty hard.

Draco stumbled suddenly, knocking Harry's hand free. "Sorry. Balance. I'm just so used to being on a broom. Standing absolutely still and _not touching _people who aren't married to me can be such a problem. You ever get that, Potter?"

Gods, he was such an arse, Hermione thought, smiling slightly. "We can't go with your plan, Harry, it's – "

"Awful," Draco filled in the blank.

"Did you even talk to your mother?" Harry asked.

"Sure. She's on board as long as we deliver her a grandchild within the next two years. "

"She _what?!" _Hermione asked.

"I told her I'd put in a solid effort. Don't worry, no promises made on your behalf."

"How comforting!"

"You probably shouldn't mention the results from this morning. I'm pretty sure her hopes for being a grandmother are going to be really beneficial to us financially."

"We _have_ to tell her the new plan."

"Well, she's not actually part of the hearing. She's probably still wandering around here somewhere," Ron pointed out.

"Maybe we should split up," Draco suggested. "Cover more ground."

"She's your mother, Malfoy. Where would she go?"

"You expect me to understand the mind of a fifty-year-old woman simply because we share half a genetic code?" Draco asked, then paused. "Do they sell clothes at all here?"

"This is a government building!" Hermione smacked him, exasperated.

"My father used to come back from here with trinkets all the time."

"That was due to constant bribery, Malfoy," Harry reminded him.

"Right. Haven't got a clue, then. Is there a department of, like, baby names and ponies or some shit?"

Hermione was hoping that Narcissa managed to find _them_ at this point. Actually… she wandered over to a bored-looking witch at the front desk. "Is there a way to get a message to Narcissa Malfoy, by chance? We're fairly sure she's in the building somewhere."

"Floor 23, subsection Merlin is the Owlery. Five galleons a message."

"That's outrageous!"

"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic."

"Guess I'm up, then?" Draco asked, flipping a gold coin in his hand. "Unless you want to take it, Potter. Financial independence must be nice and all."

"I've done well enough not owling your mum so far, Malfoy. Reckon I can keep it up."

"Why do _I _ always have to talk to my mother?" Draco whined, turning back to Hermione. "You got to bail on yours."

"If you waste another second that gets me expelled, I swear you will look like your great uncle Stab-a-lot when I'm done with you."

"You're in such a better mood after a shag."

Hermione could feel her cheeks heating as Ron and Harry's gaze turned toward her, speculatively.

"Except this morning, obviously. And every other time, really. Gods, do you _ever_ relax for a second?"

She pushed him onto the lift. Thankfully, it closed. Though, she still had to deal with the other two miscreants trying not to laugh. It was like the whole world had conspired to throw fuel on the fire of her perfectly horrendous decision to ever associate with the Malfoy family.

"_What?"_ she snapped.

"Nothing," Harry spit out immediately.

"Nice guy you got there," Ron commented, only to meet her eye and think better of it. "Nothing," he corrected.

The door to the lift re-opened with a ding. "What is it I am supposed to _say_ to my mother, exactly?" Draco asked.

XXX

The plan wasn't terrible. It was actually pretty brilliant, but it was a comparative type of brilliance that really only worked out because everyone else was all kinds of moron. Why Hermione was the only person who stopped to consider an alternative explanation for use of an herb Pansy found in the potion master's closet at a School of Magic was the real issue.

The Owlery on Floor 23 appeared to be open to the air, though, in reality he suspected it was somewhere underground. How the owls managed to find their way around the place, he had no idea, but he hoped the absurd costs went toward tips.

_Dear Mother,_

Draco paused. It was a good beginning. Straight to the point. Exactly how he liked things. Sighing, he started over:

_My Very Dear Mother,_

Truth was, she always saw through that kind of ass-kissing bullshittery, but she appreciated it, nonetheless. If you couldn't take the effort to lie through your teeth about her good points, Narcissa just didn't think you really cared.

Where was he? Right.

_My Very Dear Mother, _(If she wanted a 'Mumsy' she could go straight to hell. There were limits.)

_In spite of the fact that the truth of the situation we are dealing with is a very private family matter, I hope to convince you that __**revealing the truth**__ is the best solution. The herb in question is obviously used recreationally by a number of people (see attached signatures) but I think the council will be moved to realize that in this specific case, it was used in grief magic. My wife has made me realize that we shouldn't be ashamed to let it be known that we would require something of that nature after Father's passing._

_ Your loving son,_

_ Draco_

_P.S. I can't name children after you if my wife kills me. Which she will if we get expelled. So tell the _**truth**!

_P.P.S. The real truth. See above. _

_P.P.P.S. Should you need any further information, I will be wandering semi-aimlessly about the Ministry in hopes of running into you. _

Well, hopefully that was worth five galleons.

XXX

In the lobby, Harry and Ron had to physically stop Hermione from pacing, which she struggled against instinctively, so they probably looked like they were playing London Bridge.

Except for the fact that they weren't four-years-olds. Physically speaking.

"Stop it!" Hermione warned, ceasing all movement, save the quick raise of her wand.

Her friends backed off immediately, their respect for her wand more than healthy at this point in their schooling.

"Shouldn't he be back by now?" Hermione asked.

"It's Malfoy," said Harry. "He probably got distracted with something evil and shiny."

"Or has boobs," Ron suggested.

"Hey!" Hermione found herself objecting to what was undoubtedly the truest thing Ron could possibly interject.

"To be fair," Ron conceded, "it's unlikely to be all three."

"Unless he really does find his mum," Harry pointed out. With that, the boys started cackling with fairly unattractive bursts of laughter.

"If you wanted to actually be of _help_ you could put some effort into finding out when Dumbledore would be getting to the meeting."

"His meeting, innit? Shouldn't he be there already?"

"He doesn't actually _run_ the committee, Ron. Bit of a conflict of interest, being that they're the ones that hired him on in the first place."

"What does it matter?" Harry wanted to know.

"Wouldn't hurt to remind him of favors from the past, is all."

Ron whistled. "Well, well. Mrs. Malfoy, indeed."

"Hermione, I _hate_ using all… _that_ to our advantage. We're not above rules because we saved the world," Harry said uncomfortably.

"Oh, relax, Harry. It's nothing to do with that."

"Then what?" Ron asked.

Blast. She should really take their ability to reason out simple and obvious questions a lot more seriously. "Just… what we're telling Narcissa."

They weren't buying it. They didn't even pretend to try, giving each other extremely unsubtle, speculative looks.

"How weird does that sound out of her mouth?" Ron asked. "_Narcissa_?" He shuddered. "Guess it's better than 'Mum.'"

Hermione couldn't help but wonder if their joy in finding out about the demise of her marriage would be enough to overwhelm the majority of I-told-you-sos and what-the-hell-were-you-thinkings. It didn't seem like it.

How heartbroken would she have to act to get them to shut the hell up? And, on what she liked to consider a completely separate subject, how heartbroken was she actually likely to _be,_ given that common sense and every other type of sense clearly showed that staying in this façade of a relationship was insane?

She didn't love the way her heart squeezed as the question was broached, not just a nostalgic twinge like when she thought of her crush on Ron when she was younger or occasional thoughts of Harry over the years.

Draco would never let her hear the end of it if she caved.

Hermione couldn't help but wonder how many women in the past had broken up with Draco simply because admitting they were into him would be too painful a blow to their pride?

He was wreaking some serious havoc on his love life by being such a prick.

Not that the two wankers she'd had in her life since first year were any better.

_Men_. Obviously, she couldn't win anyway, so she might as well see how things went with Draco.

And _wonderful_. The stress of the day had driven her completely off her nut.

"Seriously, Hermione, you have to tell us."

Hermione blinked in Ron's general direction. "When did you fall for Malfoy? What was your 'Huh, I'm in love with this complete wanker' moment when it didn't seem like the best solution was to just kill yourself? What did he do? What did he say?"

Images poured into her head of Malfoy, always there, always inappropriate, always driving her crazy. The way his eyes twinkled when one of them came up with a particularly devious or scandalous idea. Gods, he was such a fucking Slytherin.

"Eww, nevermind," Ron told her. "I don't want to hear your lovesick mumbojumbo about Malfoy."

"I'm hardly lovesick. I already told you we're getting a divorce."

"Right, you say that with your mouth, but your face says you want to pop out nice plump Slyffindors to dress up like Christmas and send forth to rule the world with brilliance and cunning."

Hermione almost opened her mouth to argue that she would absolutely never dress her children in both red _and_ green simultaneously, but she realized that it was obviously the least relevant point she could possibly make. And just what was so wrong with a child with both brilliance and cunning? Maybe some puffy white hair and big brown eyes?

"Is there something wrong with a little ambition, now?" she muttered crossly. They'd be changing the world for _good_, after all.

"I rest my case."

"There's nothing wrong with wanting to change the world, Ron!"

"There is when you're teaming up with Malfoy to do it," Harry muttered.

"I'd like to see _you_ ignore Dumbledore," Hermione hit back, then immediately clamped her lips as Harry and Ron both got wind of something wrong.

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked.

"What does Dumbledore have to do with anything?"

"I…"

Nothing. Her massive brain was blank with possible explanations. So she went with plan B. "It was stupid, anyway. Didn't work. Want to come find the divorce office?"

"We're not going to just walk you over to get a divorce and forget this conversation!" Ron told her.

Harry coughed.

"We're going to walk you over to get a divorce as we _continue_ this conversation!" Ron re-stated.

Harry pointed. "I think it's that way."

XXX

Naturally, _after_ he'd spent a ridiculous amount on a scrap of paper and an owl, the woman asked if he had considered the visitor location department and gave him a big bright smile, like she knew exactly the assault that he was unable to make on her person and reveled in every aspect of his frustration.

He suspected it was like this with everyone at the Ministry. He could just see the advertisements: Do you enjoy extorting money from the public, or find sadistic joy in slow torture? You can be part of the Ministry family!

"What was your name?" he asked the woman behind the desk.

"Zaravinia Pucey."

Of course, they pulled from Slytherin House. Once the expulsion was tossed out, his wife left him and his mother cut him off when she found out why, he'd have to remember to ask about internships.

A large squawk alerted him to the return of his feathered messenger. Not that it did any good, since the bird seemed wholly unwilling to relinquish the response without some kind of treat.

Draco turned reluctantly toward Ms. Pucey, who held a small bag of treats in her hand. Sighing, he reached deep into his pocket, in part because of what was sure to come and also so the little bastard would stop pecking at his hands. She really had trained him pretty well.

"Five galleons for the bag."

It wasn't clear if she knew another number. She started ringing him up immediately, knowing there was no escaping her blasted attack bird.

"Will you be purchasing the owl as well?"

"I'd prefer to keep the use of my hands, thanks," Draco told her.

"In that case there's a re-cooping fee of five galleons."

Of course there was.

"Zaravinia?" he asked.

"Hmmm?"

"How much for the whole store?"

XXX

Blessed silence greeted her story, but she was positive it wouldn't last. She tried to quicken her pace to the Office of Marriage Certification and Adjustment, but despite an immediate lag, the boys caught up to her at the door.

"Dumbledore wouldn't do that!" Harry exclaimed, eyeing her like some kind of suspicious seafood.

"And yet..." Hermione said.

"Malfoy didn't remind him of your little 'deal' the second the expulsion thing happened?"

Hermione's stomach twisted. She had been a little too distracted with the trauma of being expelled to really pay much attention to Malfoy's various plans to counteract the whole thing. But she'd have to be absolutely thick to not see what Harry was getting at.

"Harry, Dumbledore was our bonder. He performed the magic for the marriage vows."

"Have you talked to him about it since?" Harry asked.

"No," Hermione breathed, feeling sick.

"Is there _any_ reason other than Draco Fucking _Malfoy's_ word –"

"Harry, shut up," Ron interrupted and pushed Hermione gently toward the glass window in front of the office, toward an advertisement for Marriage Services.

As her eyes focused in on the exact offers, rage quickly boiled through her veins and steamed through every pore in her body. There would be no need to get a divorce at this point because she was going to murder Draco Malfoy.

XXX

When the visitor location center told him his wife was at the Office of Marriage Certification and Adjustment, Draco felt it best to run, not walk, to get to her side.

She seemed unsurprised, at best, to see him burst through the door, sides heaving. "Hey. Hermione. Good news," he breathed deeply. "Not expelled, see?" He waved the owl from his mother, as though she would be able to read it easily from the fifteen feet or so that separated them.

Hermione said nothing. She merely looked at him, as though he was speaking a language she didn't understand and had no wish to try because ... well, frankly, because she was a goddess bent on smiting him.

It was a deeply frightening turn on.

Instinctively, he kept talking, "Mum was all _Dear Draco, miss you in all your cute baby wonder, blah blah blah typical blah. We shan't need to explain a thing, no one wants to expel a war hero, blah. _ And since I was with _you_, they couldn't expel me either. So great, right? Graduations back on."

At that moment, Draco noticed that Harry Potter was smiling at him. Shit, he realized, _I'm going to die_.

Desperately, he threw out a distraction. "So, Potter, how's Pansy? You kids make it official yet?"

When Harry only rolled his eyes, Draco felt a little sorry for him. If Potter thought avoiding the question would be enough to get Pansy off his back… or whatever other body part, he should really look into the term 'tacit agreement.'

Refusing to be detoured, Hermione kept staring at him. "Draco, I would like you to answer my questions truthfully," she said.

It wasn't _what_ she said, so much as _how_ she said it. Like he couldn't possibly get away with it if he _did_ choose to lie and that was just an uncomfortable feeling.

XXX

Hermione didn't anticipate hearing anything out of his lips that remotely resembled the truth, but he couldn't say she hadn't warned him.

"Ominous," he replied. "Hit me."

"Was it Albus Dumbledore's idea that we get married?"

His eyes flicked over to Harry and then Ron. "No, Hermione. We're deeply in love."

"I told them it wasn't real."

"Did you tell him how unreal it was this morning?" he returned.

"Harry? Ron? Give us a minute."

Severely pouting, the boys dragged their feet out through the door.

"You _told_ them?" Draco asked. "We had a deal!"

Hermione could actually feel her body turning red with rage. "A _deal_? Are you seriously telling me that you're mad at _me_ for reneging on the deal you made under false pretenses?"

"Call it even?" he asked.

Hermione exploded. Her wand flew out of her sleeve practically without help from her arm. Draco reacted quickly, but not quick enough. "Expelliarmus!" threw his wand into the wall and screamed, "Scrafolias Rectalis!" at his midsection.

At first, he was just confused, but then the twitching began. "Seriously?" he asked. "You made my arse itch?"

"Not anywhere you'd be able to reach," Hermione told him.

"Very funny."

"Isn't it?"

Draco turned to the people watching them with mild interest from behind the desk, Grucelda Abbott and Sarah Fingerscrossed. "A little help, maybe?"

"Sorry," Sarah said with a helpless shrug. "We don't get into domestic disputes. Not covered in the insurance."

"That's bloody lovely. So, what, Hermione, this is just to make me answer your questions?"

"In part. So! Tell me everything."

"I'm not doing this."

"_Invigorate!"_

"Fuck!" Draco was actively dancing now. "Fine! I hired someone to pretend to be Dumbledore because you fell for my Slytherin trickery! Is that what you wanted?"

Hermione turned to the ladies behind the desk. "We're interested in getting a divorce."

"Actually, _no_, _we_'re not."

"Luckily, it doesn't matter what you think. You're a scheming, manipulative liar and our marriage is effectively over."

"I didn't lie. You never actually asked me if the person you were talking to was Dumbledore, did you?"

"Are you seriously attempting to get out of this on a technicality?"

"Uhh. Yeah. Hi, I'm Draco Malfoy, have we met?"

"You are unbelievable!"

"Stop, I'm blushing."

"Invig-"

"Whoa, okay. Stop! Really, stop. I'm sorry!"

"You're only _sorry_ because I'm torturing you!"

"I'm actually also really sorry that I got caught."

Hermione wasn't sure that she had ever been more violently angry with anyone in her entire life and she had fought the wizarding equivalent to Adolf Hitler. Now, _now_ of all times, he was being honest. Almost brutally so, really.

"I'm not lying! I haven't been lying to you. There were just things you didn't need to know that, as you can see, have clearly muddied the waters in our relationship!"

"So what else is there? What else would _muddy the waters_ in our relationship. Let's have it out right now!"

"That's it! It was before we were together, or even on marginally good terms. Dumbledore gave me the idea, all right? He made some kind of comment about us being together but I was the one that thought it would be worth a try – that we could _both_ get something out of it. I just didn't have any idea I was such a genius."

"And you knew I'd never go for it if the idea came from you."

"Tell me I'm wrong."

"Just because you aren't _wrong_ doesn't make it _right!_"

"Okay, honestly? The moralizing means less than nothing to me. Blah blah blah, manipulative bastard blah. I am who I am. Doesn't change the fact that you're fucking in love with me."

"Stop _saying _that."

"You know what? We're getting nowhere."

"That's only what I've been saying this whole –"

Draco marched over to the desk, only shaking slightly from the curse she'd put on him. "We want a divorce."

Hermione's heart dropped with her jaw. "What are you doing?"

"This is what you want. Let's do it. It's meaningless, right? False pretenses, all that? Maybe we'll start over, maybe we won't. What do we have to do, Mrs. Abbott?"

The secretary cleared her throat and pulled out a single sheet of paper. Their marriage certificate. "It's quite simple. A 'finite incantum' on your signature lines."

"Accio wand," Draco said forcefully, holding out his hand and then pointing toward the strong lines of his signature. "You ready?"

Hermione momentarily lost the meaning of the question, but bounced right back, pointing her wand at the document that had caused so many problems. If _he_ was ready, then, obviously, so was she.

They just held there for a second, watching each other. There was no way he would go through with it, not if he was as serious about her as he kept claiming. But if he wanted to play chicken, Hermione sure as hell wasn't going to lose.

"So… on three, I guess?" Draco asked, the force gone from his voice.

"Uhh," Hermione coughed to get her vocal chords working once again. "Yeah. Three is good. You count."

"Right. I'll count," he repeated. "3…" He waited… "2 and a half…"

"If you say 'On Three' you can't start with three, that's counting _down_ from three."

"You're actually making the deep and persistent feeling of ants up my arse less annoying the more you talk."

"One, two three!" Hermione interrupted, then paused, waiting.

"Finite incantum!" he enunciated clearly, freezing her heart in her chest as her lips moved to copy him, but no actual sound came forth.

Obviously, nothing happened.

"I'm pretty sure you have to actually say something for it to work," Draco pointed out unnecessarily.

"I ran out of breath, sorry," Hermione said quickly, furious with herself for not going through with it after it had been _her idea_ in the first place. Was she really going to just back out of the plan just because he agreed with her? Her eyes were prickling and she ached to get out of there and away from him. "We'll do it again. You count."

He watched her for a second, but she avoided eye contact, staring at her signature line that she was about to wipe free of her name for the rest of her life. Someday, when she was ready, she could marry someone else. Someone more appropriate. Better suited. Probably a lot more boring. Her name started to blur and she was about to scream at him to count already when she heard his voice again, quieter. "One… Two… Three."

"Finite incantum!" she practically yelled, drowning out his voice almost completely.

Still, no change.

"What's wrong with it?!" Hermione asked, frustrated, turning to Mrs. Abbott as Draco started laughing.

"Magic is a byproduct of will, Mrs. Malfoy," Draco grabbed her hand unexpectedly and yanked her up against him. "We aren't divorced because _you_ don't want to be."

Hermione could feel her heart stop as she looked to the Ministry women for confirmation. "Maybe it's because _you_ don't want to be, Malfoy."

"Oh, I definitely don't, but that doesn't matter, does it?"

"It only takes one to undo it," Mrs. Abbott confirmed. "Neither one of you really wants a divorce. The Ministry wishes you a happy marriage."

_Shit!_ Hermione had no idea what to say. The fact that _she_ didn't want to get a divorce was, unfortunately, not entirely surprising. But Malfoy's word was notoriously suspect, the fact that _he_ didn't want to get a divorce… "We're talking about a real marriage? Love, honor, cherish… commit to _complete_ monogamy?" she asked, shocked.

Draco didn't seem at all phased by the definition, only amused. "Ready to admit you love me yet?" he asked.

XXX

The concept that he was complete and total fuckwit brought itself into true and ugly focus with the glare Hermione shot him. Obviously, he was using the wrong approach.

He should say something romantic and beautiful, all that cheesy shite the birds loved.

"Let's be fair. I totally admitted it first!" he started, probably not a great intro to the topic, but he had to warm up to the flowery crap.

"But that's just –"

"No," Draco put his hand over her mouth, probably a mistake from the expression she was giving him. "I don't want to hear about how I'm lying or manipulating you. I love you, even though you have been a huge pain in the arse for weeks now and you've annoyed me half my sodding _life_. But you're not in my head. You don't know what I'm thinking or feeling."

Hermione bit his hand.

"Fuck! What the hell?"

"I can't say what _you're thinking_ but you can just tell me hourly that I'm in love with you?"

"Huh. Touche. Fine, I'll stop. _I_ love _you_. How do _you_ feel about _me_?"

Silence.

Draco didn't deal well with silences in general, they made him twitch uncomfortably. And being that his estranged wife had hexed him with the most horrific rectal itch he'd ever experienced in his life, it really just made the whole thing the most exquisite hell he had ever known.

"You're actually serious," were the next words out of her mouth and Draco felt like he was moving at snail pace. Sure, it was progress, but it _wasn't a fucking answer!_

"What does that mean?!" he asked, frustrated, while trying to maintain the sincerest expression he could possibly manage whilst wiggling his butt cheeks. He probably looked like a squirrel on aromentia.

Just as he was thinking she'd never answer, she closed her eyes and muttered, "FINE! I love you too. Being with you, when I'm not ready to kill you… it makes me happy, okay?"

It was his turn to be absolutely silent.

For about a nanosecond.

"So… we're trying this? And by this, I mean the greater question of our marriage."

"We're trying this," she confirmed, the slight smile on her face broke into a full laugh. "We're _insane!"_

He wasn't even fully paying attention to her. She had actually said she loved him. It kept replaying in his head. As much as he had told her she did, over and over again, it had been, in large part, because he knew it annoyed the life out of her. The idea that she was actually going for it…

Fuck, he'd actually _won_.

It was really only the overpowering need to snog the hell out of the woman who was _actually legitimately in love with him_ that prevented him from bragging about his victory.

That, plus the persistent itch in his lower colon suggested it was ultimately more of a draw. He pulled away with a realization. "You're not actually going to take this curse off my arse, are you?"

"Do you feel you've learned your lesson?" she asked, obviously taking a lot of pleasure out of the situation for a woman claiming to be in love with him.

The greater message not to fuck with her, like, ever was not lost on him. It was the specifics that were tripping him up.

"This is the honesty and all that bull shit, right?" he doublechecked.

"Sounds to me like you're gonna have to scratch that yourself…"

"Sorry, the only thing I have that goes up that far doesn't bend that way."

Hermione wasn't unmoved by the observation, awaiting, he suspected, proof of his unyielding honesty from this point forward.

"Fine! Yes, honesty from me, between us, all that. It's a good idea. We'll try it out. Though I should mention, in the interest of full disclosure, I sometimes drop the M-bomb when you're not around. But that's more out of habit than residual racism."

"You drop the M-bomb when I _am_ around."

"Well, there. See? You already knew. We can live happily ever after."

Hermione groaned. "That is _so_ unlikely to happen."

"The sooner you uncurse me, the sooner we can forget all this negativity, stroll through those doors and onto the shagging." At Hermione's gasp, he re-phrased, "Beautiful, soulful love making. On multi-surfaces."

But, obviously, that wasn't what she was concerned about as she rested her face in her hands.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

She peaked at him through a crack in her fingers. "I'll have to tell Harry and Ron that we patched things up."

Draco could barely feel the itch in his arse as joy filled his entire body, leaving just one burning question, "Can I _please_ be there for that?"

The End


End file.
